You and Me: New Beginnings
by Potrix
Summary: A teen!lock, Alpha/Omega AU. John is in Year 11, preparing for his GCSEs, when the Holmes family, one of the few remaining Alpha clans, moves back to London. John's world is turned upside down as he suddenly has to deal with his Omega heritage and a whole bunch of new, unfamiliar feelings. - Johnlock & some mentions of Mystrade, full summary inside.
1. The First Day

**A/N:** Welcome to my story _'New Beginnings'_, the first installment of the _'You and Me'_ series. I'll try to update as regularly as possible, but I'm working and studying as well, so please don't kill me if you have to wait for new chapters. If you happen to like this story (or, you know, if you're just bored) go check out my other Sherlock story _'Another Holmes'_.

Reviews make me happy, so please leave me comments and tell me what you liked or didn't like. All feedback is welcome, so don't be shy. If you happen to spot any grammatical errors, feel free to write me a PM and point them out. English isn't my first language and I don't currently have a Beta for this story.

Now, read and (hopefully) enjoy! ~ Potrix

* * *

**General Summary:** A teen!lock, Alpha/Omega AU. John is in Year 11, preparing for his GCSEs, when the Holmes family, one of the few remaining Alpha clans, moves back to London. John's world is thrown upside down as he suddenly has to deal with his Omega heritage and a whole bunch of new, unfamiliar feelings.

Set in a world where the majority of the people are Betas, while Alphas and Omegas are slowly dying out. The general population knows very little about Alphas/Omegas and most of the stories are more fiction than fact.

My very personal take on the Alpha/Beta/Omega universe. Additional notes concerning details to anything A/B/O in the respective chapters.

* * *

**Chapter Summary:** Sherlock's first day back in school. John's first encounter with the Holmes family.

* * *

**Warnings:** swearing, a few mentions of (alcohol) abuse

* * *

**Chapter 1 - The First Day**

The heavy, dark blue curtains were forcefully yanked open, allowing the bright morning sun into the otherwise dim room. A few rays danced over Sherlock's face and he winced miserably.

"Ten minutes, Sherlock. I refuse to be late because of your tardiness."

Bloody Mycroft!

Sherlock ignored him and turned, burying his face in the pillows. His head pounded violently and the movement had made him nauseous. He was sporting the mother of all hangovers, but it had been worth it. The rush and the blissful nothingness that always followed, giving his mind a few hours of well deserved peace and quiet.

The blankets were pulled away from his body and hit the carpeted floor with a soft 'thump'. Sherlock shivered, curling up into a ball with another agonised groan.

"Get up, you bloody tosser!"

Something hit him in the back of the head and Sherlock grunted, waving a shaky hand in the general direction of the disturbance.

Bloody Rutherford!

There were voices now, hissing amongst each other in the hall outside his room and Sherlock listened. One annoyed and angry - Mycroft. One impatient and irritated - Rutherford. And one sweet and soft.

Yes, any second now.

His door closed almost without a sound, footsteps on the floor and then a slight dip in the mattress.

"Open up."

Sherlock rolled onto his back and complied. Two pills were shoved into his mouth. He swallowed them dry - a matter of practice. A comfortably cold washcloth was pressed to his forehead and he sighed, his body relaxing slightly. Gentle fingers opened his shirt, the cloth now running down his chest, over his stomach and back up to his arms, scrubbing at last night's dried blood, the stinging starting to pull him into full consciousness.

"Up."

Eyes still pressed shut against the vile brightness, Sherlock let himself be moved into a sitting position, swaying dangerously for a moment. The old shirt was removed, his arms manoeuvred into a fresh one.

"Buttons. Legs."

Sherlock began to work on his buttons, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. The trousers were gone in an instant, followed by his pants. He barely registered any of it - not that it would have made any difference, he didn't know the words modesty and shame anyway - until his hands were swatted away and replaced with another pair that quickly finished with his shirt before moving to his shoulders, easing him up.

"Step."

A new pair of pants and the stiff black trousers of the school uniform slid up his thighs and were fastened around his hips. Ruffling and shuffling and then his leather belt was in place as well.

"Down."

Sherlock flopped back down on the bed and was half asleep again when he felt socks and shoes being pushed onto his feet. The rest of the uniform - jacket and tie - landed on his chest and he finally managed to crack open an eye.

"You look like shit."

Sherlock grinned at his sister's back as she walked out of the room and caught a glimpse of Mycroft and Rutherford. Mycroft scowled disapprovingly and Rutherford gave him the two finger salute.

Bloody Mycroft!

Bloody Rutherford!

Lovely little Ellie.

* * *

John blindly patted for his alarm, knocking it to the floor. It was followed by a pillow, which - surprisingly - didn't help.

"Stupid bloody thing!" John groaned and rolled over, grabbing for it and shutting it off before placing it back on the nightstand and getting up. He yawned and stretched and landed face down on the hard wooden floor outside his room.

"Harry!" he growled, snatched the high heel, scrambled to his feet and started banging at his sister's door. "Your shoe almost killed me!"

There was giggling and hushed voices. Another one, great. John rolled his eyes and threw the shoe against the door in an outburst of childish anger.

Bloody Harry!

"John? Would you keep it down, please?" Holly's head appeared out of the bathroom and she frowned at her son, fixing her earring.

John grumbled and pulled a face before jumping down the stairs to the kitchen. He had enough time to pour some corn flakes into a bowl and was just reaching for the milk when the shouting started.

"MUM!"

"Christ, Harry! We talked about-"

"Get out!"

"How much did you drink last night?"

"That's none of your fucking business!"

"I am your mother, Harriet!"

"Oh please! You don't give a shit about me or John-"

"That's hardly the point now, is it? As long as you're living under my roof-"

"Here we go again!"

John looked up when the front door unlocked. A pretty brunette smiled at him, embarrassed, and slipped out of the house, smelling like stale beer and sex.

He tuned out his mother's furious yelling and his sister's screeching and focused on his meagre breakfast instead.

Bloody family!

* * *

"Your sister isn't your personal valet." Mycroft huffed when he sensed Sherlock entering the dining room, never looking up from his paper.

Sherlock ignored his brother and let himself fall into a chair, scrunching up his nose at the scrambled eggs and toast in front of him. The plate was pushed away.

"Awesome!" Rutherford beamed, swapping his empty plate with Sherlock's full one.

They ate, read and - in Sherlock's case - dozed in silence for a while, a smile forming on each of the brothers' lips when a familiar, soothing scent hit them. Warmth and comfort and security.

"Ford, stop eating Sherly's food. He's much too thin as it is." Calvin sighed, glancing between his sons.

"He wasn't going to eat it anyway!" Ford complained, stuffing a huge bit of egg into his mouth as if to prove a point. Sherlock looked disgusted and Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"Where's your sister?"

"Morning Daddy." Ellie smiled sweetly, sweeping into the room on cue, her uniform perfect and hiding the evidence of last night's activities. As always.

"Your hair!" Calving exclaimed, ushering her to a chair. The girl groaned in annoyance while the boys snuck grins at each other.

"Shut up!" she snapped, wincing when the brush got caught in her curls. Calvin tutted and continued without a hint of sympathy, braiding the nearly untameable curls into a neat bun - which was going to get opened as soon as the girl was out of sight.

"Now, that's much better. Lovely, darling." Calvin smiled and pressed a kiss on top of his daughter's head.

Ford snorted.

"Yes, very lovely." Mycroft teased, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Ford snorted again, louder this time.

Ellie glared at them both, leaned back into her father and began to pout.

And Sherlock snored, head resting on his folded arms.

* * *

John nearly missed the doorbell over the commotion upstairs.

"Already?" Bill Murray asked when he stepped outside and John nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. "She's not coming back?"

"Didn't pass her GCSEs anyway." John shrugged and kicked a pebble as they walked to the bus stop.

"She could repeat the year. Rory did and he's doing kinda okay now."

"She did!"

"Third time lucky!"

"That's what mum says, but she can't be arsed. You know how she is."

Bill didn't say anything. They both knew. _Everybody_ knew. At age 14 it had been cigarettes and beer, now, at age 18, it was a lot more. A lot more and much more frequent.

"Sorry mate." Bill sighed after a while and John shrugged again.

They were both panting after changing from the bus to the tube - eighty seconds was hardly enough time to run across the station - when Dimmock joined them.

"Did you hear?" he asked, jumping up and down excitedly.

John and Greg shared a look and simultaneously rolled their eyes. Timothy Dimmock; gossip extraordinaire!

"What's it today, Dimmy? Sebastian knocked up some bird? Teacher's dead? Oh dear Lord, let it be Mr Rafferty, he's-"

"Shut it, William." Dimmock interrupted and the other two sniggered. "New students!"

"So?" John quirked an eyebrow at his friend. "We get them like every other week."

"But this time it's different! They're super rich or something."

Bill snorted. "That's what we need. More of those arrogant, posh tossers making us ordinary people feel even worse about being 'only' middle class."

"Agreed." John groaned. Being dependant on the state wasn't something either he or Bill were proud of. Actually, it really sucked.

"Whatever." Dimmock waved them aside impatiently. "They are different. Mike says they're one of _those_ families, if you catch my drift."

Bill shot a worried glance in John's direction.

"What do you mean by one of _those_ families?" the blonde boy demanded, face ashen and his hand gripping a nearby pole, knuckles turning white.

"You know, one of the Alpha families!"

His sister was a drunk, his mother didn't give a crap about him, they were poor as hell and now this - some posh Alpha kids, coming to his school and making life difficult. Because that's what Alphas did to Omegas; make everything complicated.

* * *

"You're chipper today." Ford grinned, watching his sister struggle with her hair in the backseat.

"Sod off."

"There's no need to be anxious, Ellie. Ford and I can be there in a matter of minutes. If you need us to-"

"I'm not a bloody kid, Mycroft!" Ellie snarled and shook her head, auburn curls falling free around her face. She smirked. "Much better."

"We worry about you." Mycroft continued.

"Constantly." Ford added.

Ellie pulled a face and rolled her eyes.

Sherlock stared out of the window, watched the rain hammer down, and ignored all three of them.

"Your headmaster's informed about your status." Mycroft said after a while. "If you run into any problems, do not hesitate to tell him. Or one of us."

"What do you think is going to happen? I don't plan on devouring every bloody Omega I come across. Chances are there won't be any. They're even rarer than we are, you know that."

"Be that as it may, you do not have full control over your biological urges and-"

"I've been around Omegas before, Mycroft. Nothing fucking happened!" Ellie snapped, folding her arms across her chest.

"Not since you presented, Ellie." Ford pointed out with a sympathetic expression.

"She will be fine."

"Hear, hear; he speaks!" Ford mocked, glaring at Sherlock. "And you can't know that."

"We all were."

"But it was difficult." Mycroft reminded them as he pulled the car into the parking lot. "Just be careful, both of you. We don't want either of you to get hurt."

"Or into trouble." Ford mumbled, eyes locked on Sherlock.

"We'll be fine. I'll hit him if he's rude." Ellie grinned and leaned forward to receive a peck on the cheek from each of her brothers.

Sherlock grunted and stomped out into the rain.

* * *

John and Bill secured their seats in the back next to Dimmock and Mike Stamford's desk and as far away as possible from Mr Turner. They talked about the weekend's football match while Sally talked to the teacher at his desk, smiling and showing way too much teeth. Swot.

The bell rang and the class went quieter - a little.

"I hope you all had a pleasant weekend." Mr Turner said in his usual boring tone that told you he couldn't care less if he tried.

He was writing the day's topics down on the board when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in."

John's head snapped up the instant the door cracked open. The smell was overwhelming, more intense than he could ever have imagined. Mr Gunderson, the biology teacher, had explained that there was a general Alpha scent - a bit like burning wood - each one of them naturally carried, along with a set of unique, personal smells. Much like it was with Omegas, he had said, and described their scent as a 'fresh summer breeze.'

Mr Gunderson was an idiot, John decided. Indicator one: John did _not_ smell like the fucking wind. Indicator two: smelling an Alpha was like being hit in the face with a bloody campfire.

All eyes were on the door now and John's jaw dropped when the person finally stepped inside. Not that he'd had any idea what an Alpha looked like or if there was a certain way they were supposed to look, but he certainly hadn't expected a lanky, pale girl with a mob of wild, reddish curls and piercing silver-blue-green eyes.

"Ah, yes. I was informed that we would be getting a new student today." Mr Turner smiled - or rather grimaced - when the girl handed him a slip of paper from the front office.

John looked around, but no one else seemed to be affected like he was. He sighed and rubbed his face. Bloody Alpha, already starting to make things difficult.

"Welcome to Hollow Oak, Miss C-"

"Ellie."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Ellie. I go by my second name, if it's all the same to you."

"Well then, welcome at our school, Ms Ellie Holmes." Mr Turner said and there was a collective gasp from every student in the room.

"Bloody hell!" Mike whispered and Bill nodded. Everybody - _everybody!_ - knew about the Holmes family; super rich, super posh, super intelligent and super, _super_ weird.

Ellie raised an eyebrow at the teacher and blew a bubble with her gum.

Mr Turner scowled. "Ms Holmes, we do not allow food in the classrooms." he informed her and snapped his fingers. His eyes went comically wide when she spat the sticky piece of candy right into his palm. "The bin, Ms Holmes!" he barked irritated.

"You should have specified." Ellie shrugged and Bill snorted, unable to hold back his laughter.

Mr Turner moved his attention to the boy. "Well, I believe we have found the perfect seat for our newest addition." he smirks. "Mr Murray, to the front, next to Mr Wilkes please."

"Kill me now!" Bill moaned, but picked up his stuff to make room for Ellie, who slid into the emptied seat with the grace of a cat.

"Now, shall we begin with our lesson?" the teacher asked and turned back to the board.

John didn't hear anything after that, he was unable to tear his eyes away from the girl or even close his mouth, so he simply stared. Ellie's head turned suddenly and he blushed furiously at getting caught. He was about to stammer an apology when she leaned in close to sniff his neck, lips ghosting over the pulse point below his ear, and hummed softly.

"Fascinating." the girl murmured when she pulled back and took out her history book as if _that_ just hadn't been the strangest thing _ever_.

John shuddered and tried to force himself to concentrate on the lecture. Which would have been a lot easier if his skin hadn't been tingling and his hands would've stayed still for a moment.

_'This is going to suck _so _much!'_, he thought and groaned, sliding down further in his chair.

* * *

It took Sherlock precisely nine minutes and forty-eight seconds to come to the conclusion that everyone in the room, including the teacher, were grade-A morons. Nine minutes and forty-eight seconds was the amount of time he'd needed to finish the pop quiz, which left him with nothing other to do than stare at his peers for the rest of the lessons. He felt his hands twitch and started to fidget with a pen, tapping it on the desk.

"Mr Holmes, is there a problem?" Mrs Flores demanded and raised an eyebrow at her newest pupil.

"I'm done."

"Well, do go over your answers again and check them, Mr Holmes."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and did as he was told. Not because he had been told, but because he wanted to. Obviously.

_Question 1: "Which of the following conversions corresponds to an 'isomerisation' process?" _

_A. heptane to methylbenzene_

_B. heptane to heptene_

_C. heptane to propene and butane_

_D. heptane to 2,2,3-trimethylbutane _

Sherlock sighed and shoved the paper away, unable to stand another read-through, fearing it might actually make him dumber. This was what they called Advanced Chemistry? He leaned back to find a comfortable sulking position. Daddy had promised them an adequate school to promote their abilities. He should have known better.

"Thirty minutes, everyone." Mrs Flores announced and Sherlock considered stabbing himself in the eye with a pencil just to get out of class.

The girl next to him coughed and his attention snapped to her. Recently broke up with her boyfriend, still hung up on it: _dull._

A boy in the front row, helping his mate two seats over to cheat by tapping on the desk: _idiots._

Another boy near the door with a broken wrist. Telling everyone it's from football practice because he's ashamed to admit he's dancing ballet: _unimportant and DULL. _

Mrs Flores, a tiny red speckle on the hem of her blouse, her face pale and hands twitchy: _could be fun._

"How long have you been bulimic?" Sherlock asked casually, crossed his legs and raised a challenging eyebrow.

Everyone turned to stare at him while the teacher's eyes grew wide.

"I...I beg...I beg your pardon?" Mrs Flores spluttered, embarrassed, and turned a dark shade of pink.

"You have been throwing up your breakfast before class, a bacon and egg sandwich. There is some sauce on your sleeve. You are on edge and your hands are sweaty, both of which can be signs of regular use of strong laxatives. Oh, and there is the laxative in your briefcase. Your hair is thinning and your nails are slightly grey, leading me to believe that it is not a recent development. I would guess the base of the problem are unresolved father issues and a pathological need to succeed, but I never guess, so it would be much appreciated if you could fill that particular gap. It's fascinating, really. I haven't been able to study this illness before, would you agree that it fares well to say-"

"GET OUT!" Mrs Flores shrieked and Sherlock smirked.

"It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, I'll be looking forward to seeing you again." he drawled and winked at her before strolling out of the room, the perfect picture of indifference.

He walked straight into the headmaster's office without bothering to knock.

* * *

"I don't know, Mr Rafferty."

"Why doesn't that surprise me in the least, Mr Watson?" the teacher sighed as if John had personally offended him. "You haven't been taking this course seriously and prefer to goof around in class, it's no wonder you can't fallow."

John bristled. It wasn't that he disliked Geography, it was Mr Rafferty who posed a problem. They could be talking about volcanic activity in Asia and the next instant he would ask John about sandstorms in the Savannah or something like that, scolding him when he didn't have a fucking clue what the man wanted from him, making it look like John hadn't been paying attention. Which he had been. His mother was working too hard to pay for his education for him not to make an effort.

"It's a downright shame, Mr Watson." Mr Rafferty said and shook his head.

John clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, making an effort to control his temper.

"What a fucking wanker!" Ellie hissed quietly, leaning close. John jumped. For some reason she had decided to stick with him during the morning, which had earned him a fair amount of whistles and cheers from his mates. The girl either hadn't noticed or simply didn't care. He suspected the latter. It had been annoying at first, having a shadow following him around from class to class, especially since it was a shadow making him positively giddy. But she was good company and after a while the sensation of being drowned in her scent had subsided to a small tingling in the back of his head.

"It's because you're poor."

"What? How do you-"

"Your uniform is second hand, your bag is at least four years old and you bring lunch from home, indicating you can't afford to buy it here."

John stared at her, torn between anger and amazement.

She rolled her eyes. "_I_ don't care, but _he_ does. He clearly treats the people who receive studentships worse than the ones coming from a wealthy background."

"How did you notice that?"

"I observed."

"Brilliant!"

"Not really." Ellie shrugged, but John saw the tips of her ears turn red. It made him smile.

"Mr Watson!" Mr Rafferty snapped and John mentally braced himself for another round of 'humiliate John in front of the class'. "It is Ms Holmes first day at our school and you're already keeping her from-"

"Actually,_ sir_, John was just telling me what page we're currently on." Ellie interrupted with a twee smile and the man visibly softened.

_'She was right! What a bastard!'_, John fumed and narrowed his eyes at the man.

"Well, if that's the case, I'm sure you wouldn't mind answering the practice questions, Mr Watson?" the teacher asked and pointed at the first one projected onto the screen.

_"Council estates are usually found in which landuse zone?"_

John cursed himself for being about to prove the man right - fine, he hadn't been listening _today_, sue him - when he felt a hand on his leg. Four soft squeezes.

"Erm...D? Outer suburbs?"

"Lucky guess. How about we try another one?" Mr Rafferty said and clicked away on his laptop.

John glanced over at Ellie, who flashed him the most evil grin he'd ever seen, before facing the board again with a blank expression. They managed to get through fourteen more multiple choice questions and Mr Rafferty turned redder with every one John answered correctly. In the end, the teacher gave up as John and Ellie shared a smug smile.

"I like her." Bill whispered from the desk behind them and John silently agreed.

* * *

"On your first day, Sherlock. Unbelievable!" Mycroft hissed, making an obvious effort to keep his voice low.

"During the first lesson." Ford corrected, fixing his younger brother with a disappointed glare.

"I was bored." Sherlock shrugged and Mycroft's left eye twitched. Ford placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. They both sighed.

The bell went off, signalling lunch break and the halls gradually filled with chattering students.

"Which room?" Ford asked just as Ellie stepped out of the biology lab, followed by a tall boy with messy, bright red hair and green eyes, a slightly smaller, chubby one and-

Three pairs of eyes snapped to the last member of the laughing group, a fair haired boy, smaller than the rest of them, deep blue eyes and a warm, nurturing aura. An omega.

"And here's my escort!" Ellie complained when she spotted her brothers. "Bill Murray, Mike Stamford and John Watson. I am allowed to make new friends, am I not?" she asked, voice dripping with sarcasm, but the rest of the Holmes clan stared past her at John, who had stopped mid step, frozen on the spot.

"Of course, dear." Mycroft smiled after collecting himself and nudged Ford, snapping him back to reality. "It's very nice to meet you."

"Look at Captain Posh." Bill grinned, running his eyes up and down the older boy. Mycroft raised an eyebrow at him and Bill winked.

Mike groaned, turned around and pulled the other boy along. "See you in the study group after English, Ellie, yeah?"

"Mm." the girl nodded, trying not to laugh at the gobsmacked look on Mycroft's face. Ford didn't make the effort and openly sniggered at the unusual sight of a speechless Mycroft.

"John, you coming?" Bill called over his shoulder and the other boy shook himself.

"Uh...yeah, right." John stammered and quickly ran after them.

"So much for making a good first impression." Ellie snorted and rolled her eyes. "What's for lunch?"

"Thai." Ford said and held up a white take out bag.

"Awesome!" the girl exclaimed and made a grab for it, but Ford held the food over his head, sticking out his tongue. They started to bicker while moving to the exit and Mycroft walked after them with a fond smile on his lips.

Sherlock didn't notice them leaving until Ellie's pencil case hit him in the back of the head.

"Come on, I'm hungry!" she whined.

Sherlock nodded absently and, after inhaling deeply once again, joined his siblings, but his mind was reeling and his body trembling.

* * *

John sat outside at one of the picnic tables, picking at his sandwich. The bread was stale and the butter seemed off. Which would have been fine, if there had been some meat or even a few vegetables or a bit of salad in it. But there wasn't. Being poor was the worst. He sighed and wrapped it again, tossing the food back into his bag.

The hunger was instantly forgotten when the direction of the wind changed. Mr Gunderson was definitely a fucking idiot. Burning wood smelled nice. So did a small campfire. But this, _this_ felt like drowning in a wave of fire. Every single hair on John stood to attention and goose bumps spread across his whole body. He didn't have to turn around to know who'd just sat down at the table across the stone path from them and he silently thanked whatever god there was that the weather had cleared up and that they had decided to eat outside today. The encounter in the hall had been more than enough to reduce him to a complete mess and he wasn't inclined to spend too much time in close proximity to a whole bloody flock of Alphas!

"Speaking of the Devil!" Bill sighed. Mike, Dimmock and Rory craned their necks to sneak a peek at the Holmes table.

"He really made her cry?" Dimmock asked and Rory - Bill's brother who was a year above them in Sherlock's class - nodded eagerly.

"Announced that she has some kind of eating disorder in front of the whole class. Said he did it because he was bored when some of the guys confronted him about it."

"Doesn't sound like he's sorry." Bill mused.

"That's the worst part!" Rory exclaimed irritated. "He totally isn't! I don't think he even got the point. Kept repeating that he didn't say anything that wasn't true. That he was only pointing out facts."

"What a wanker." Mike decided and the others nodded in agreement.

John finally dared to turn around. Ellie was propped up against another red haired boy - no curls, though - her head tucked under his chin. They talked and laughed when the one with the dark ponytail said something and pulled a face.

If he concentrated, John could just about make out their individual smells among the whirl of their fire. He caught a whiff of something which reminded him of roses, that was definitely Ellie. It was sweet and caressing and very nice, but also faint. The rich, heavy and somehow wooden odour seemed to come from the one in the fancy three piece suit - which probably cost more than everything John owned combined with every single pound he'd earned in his life. Ever. Oddly enough, ponytail guy smelled like old books, or at least that's how John would have described it if asked.

But none of that compared to Sherlock Holmes. He was all consuming, seeping into John's every pore and touching him all over, even though he was sitting at least ten metres away. He was like an oncoming storm on a hot summer evening; cold, dark and completely desirable. It took all of John's willpower - and a bit more - not to stand up and move closer, not to press himself against the other boy, run a hand through those soft looking curls, taste his beautiful lips and-

"John, you okay?" Bill asked and the other boy realised his friends were staring at him.

"Mm, fine." he murmured while his brain yelled at him and his body ached with need. _'This is a bit not good.'_, he thought, sighed and buried his face in his hands.

* * *

It was infuriating!

Sherlock Holmes did not need anybody, yet he wanted to hold John and never let him go again. Wrap himself around the smaller boy, make him his. And yell it from the rooftops until every last person in the world knew he was claimed.

He stared down at his body and the growing erection between his legs. _Traitor!_

Sherlock Holmes did not give in to some ridiculous Alpha urges, he was better than that. The fact that he had an iron grip on the table in order to stop himself from pouncing at John did _so_ not disprove that. At all.

"Sherlock!"

He turned his head slightly and raised an eyebrow at his sister.

"Eat."

He shook his head and she sighed, sliding up behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest and resting her chin on his shoulder.

Sherlock decided that now was probably a very good time to cross his legs.

"For me." Ellie pleaded and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Sherlock glared at her but popped a dumpling into his mouth. His stomach rumbled in delight and he scowled as he grabbed a container of fried rice. _Traitor!_

At least his sister seemed satisfied and left him alone, using Mycroft as her new pillow. Which was fine, because Sherlock wanted her to go away and wasn't the slightest bit jealous of _their_ sibling bond.

And Sherlock Holmes definitely didn't blush and refused to believe that his pink cheeks had anything to do with the fact that John had just turned around and looked at him.

* * *

"You sure your mum's coming?" Ellie asked.

"Yes."

"You do realise that you've been saying that for nearly an hour, don't you?"

"_Yes!_" John snapped and regretted it instantly. "Sorry, didn't mean to-"

"No worries." Ellie smiled, offering him another drag of her cigarette.

"If you need to go...I mean...you don't have to wait here, with me."

Somehow the two of them had ended up alone on campus. Bill was still under house arrest - for a _very_ good reason - and had had to leave right after study group. Mike's mother was the most controlling woman on the face of the earth and waited for her son in front of the school every single day to drive him home. Which was cause for a lot of good natured teasing. Dimmock had hitched a ride with Bill and Rory, because he was a lazy tit and didn't want to walk the ten minutes to the tube station.

"It's fine." the girl shrugged and they fell into a comfortable silence.

"Do you get along well? With your brothers?" John asked after a while. He didn't miss the flicker of pain cross Ellie's face before she pulled herself together.

"We drive each other crazy and argue all the time. But I love 'em." she grinned after a moment of consideration.

John chuckled. It was no different with him and Harry. He wanted to throttle her most of the time, but that didn't mean he cared about her any less.

"What's that?" John wanted to know when she took back the cigarette.

"A stupid tradition." Ellie groaned and wrinkled her nose, stabbing at the symbol on the back of her left hand.

"That's not vague at all."

Ellie grinned and rolled her eyes, but began to explain. "It's a family bond crest. Up until the early 20th century, all Alpha families used them. Today they're kinda rare, but Aldéric insisted."

"Aldéric?" John raised a puzzled eyebrow.

"My _father_." Ellie spat, sounding disgusted by the word.

"You don't like him very much, do you?" John asked and the girl shook her head. "Why?"

She snorted. "You wouldn't ask that if you knew him."

"So, what's it mean? The crest?"

"The red square represents the bond. It's always a geometrical form with the same number of edges as there are children in the family. The Alpha 'designs' it once he or she has decided that the family is complete. If I ever decide to start a family, it would be expected of me to do the same on my right hand. Left is for your parents crest, right for yours and your partner's."

"Are you gonna do it?"

"Have a family or tattoo some stupid mark on each of them?"

"Both?!"

"No."

"Why did you ask if the answer to both questions is no?"

"Specification is important. People spit gum into your hands if you don't specify." Ellie grinned smugly.

"That was awesome, by the way." the boy laughed. "Go on."

"Okay, erm...each of the black circles stands for a member of the family. The ones in the edges are my siblings and me. The more filled out they are, they higher up you are in the family hierarchy. Mycroft's is almost completely filled out 'cause he's the eldest. Ford's is almost the same, he's only a year younger. The difference is more significant between Ford and Sherlock, they're six years apart, and again for Sherlock and me-"

"Wait, how old are you? And how old is he? He's only one grade above us." John frowned.

"He tends to flunk out a lot because he gets bored and thinks there are better things he can occupy his time with. He's 18, I'm almost 15."

"Holy shit! What are you doing in year 11?"

"Contrary to Sherlock, I tend to think that school is very important and skipped a few grades." Ellie shrugged as if it was nothing. John thought it was rather brilliant.

"Why does yours have a double line?"

"Because it represents me. It's so potential mates can see where you stand in your family. First borns are of highest value and would require the biggest dowry from the suitor's parents."

John frowned at that, but said nothing.

"I know." Ellie sighed and bit her lips, absently rubbing a fingertip over one of two circles in the middle of the square.

"And those are your parents, I guess?" John mused when he noticed the motion.

"Mm. The completely filled out one is Aldéric, head of the house." she snorted and rolled her eyes again. "The other-" she cut herself off and looked at John, seemingly unsure how to proceed.

"Your mother?" the boy tried, but Ellie shook her head.

"My Daddy."

"But I thought Aldéric was-" John began and then it dawned on him. The final circle was just a very thin line, no filling at all, and slightly lighter in colour than the rest. "You have two fathers. An Alpha and an Omega."

"I'm sorry."

John looked at her, confused.

"I don't...please don't think that I believe Omegas to be lesser human beings because of their biology. I absolutely hate the fact that they're perceived like that by society." the girl mumbled, not meeting his eyes.

"It's not your fault." John said with a small smile, but Ellie still looked upset. "Besides, it's not as bad as it was half a century ago. We have the same rights as everybody else and-"

Ellie exploded. "No you don't! You need an elder's permission to marry, you are not allowed to take jobs in several sectors, because you are thought to be 'weak' and they pump you full of suppressants and birth control from the day you present. It's disgusting!"

"Well, yeah. But most parents let their Omega children live their life the way they want to inside those restrictions. Mine always did."

"But that's exactly the point!" Ellie hissed. "There shouldn't be any restrictions. You should be free to choose. You should be able to live your life without having to fear that some stupid Alpha tosser claims you just because you don't take suppressants. No matter what your body might tell you during a heat, if someone just takes you...it's _wrong_!"

Something clicked in John's brain. "Your father, Aldéric, he thinks differently about this, doesn't he? Is that what happened to your parents? Did he just-"

"Watson!"

Both John and Ellie jumped as Carl Powers approached.

"What are you doing with that little freak, Watson?"

"Beg your pardon?" John asked, automatically stepping in front of the girl.

"Her brother humiliated Mrs Flores today. Knew all about her, the freak. Don't know how he did it, probably is some creepy stalker or something. Your parents must have fucked up majorly when it comes to him, eh?"

"Don't talk about my Daddy like that!" Ellie snarled - no, actually _snarled_ - and pushed past a gaping John. Something about her scent changed and he instinctively knew things were going to get ugly.

"Carl, leave her alone. Whatever Sherlock did has nothing to do with her." John tried to reason. With little success.

"Shut it, Watson. Walk away now, this is between me and her." Carl barked.

"Going after someone's little sister, now that's a new low, even for you."

A strong fist hit John square in the jaw and Ellie lunged at Carl, pushing the heavy built boy to the ground with impressive strength.

"_Ellie!_"

John whirled around at the sound of Sherlock Holmes' deep voice and saw the boy quickly striding towards them. Ellie, after another angry growl directed at Carl, reluctantly got up and straightened her skirt, but continued to glare.

Without hesitation, Sherlock curled a hand around Carl's throat and hauled him up, their faces almost touching.

"Consider this a warning. Touch either one of them again and I will destroy you."

John gaped disbelievingly as the taller boy was thrown several meters across the lawn and rubbed his neck before scrambling to his feet and running off. He didn't sense Sherlock approach until a warm hand was placed on his cheek and a long, pale finger gently wiped a drop of blood from the edge of his mouth.

"You'll be fine." Sherlock said, sounding a little raw and husky all of a sudden. "We're going, Ellie." he added, dropped his hand and turned around abruptly. He grabbed his sister by the elbow and dragged her along, leaving the girl to shrug and shoot an apologetic look in John's direction.

A look John completely missed in his struggle to steady his wobbly legs and get his breathing under control. He brought a hand up to his face where Sherlock had touched him only moments before and shivered at the memory of it.

It was surprisingly hard not to lick his fingers and get a taste of Sherlock.

* * *

Sherlock slammed the door closed after his sister and leaned against the outside of the car, his knees about to give out under him. He stared at the red smear on his finger and brought it closer to his face. Before he had a chance to think about it, his lips had closed themselves around the digit and a feral moan escaped from deep within his chest.

Shocked by his own actions, he rapidly removed the finger, wiping it on his trousers before jumping into the driver's seat.

"Lockie?"

Sherlock didn't answer, one hand frozen on the key in the ignition, the other gripping the steering wheel.

"Are you okay?" Ellie asked worriedly, looking at him with big, confused eyes.

"Fine." Sherlock finally croaked and cleared his throat. "Stay away from Powers, he's an idiot."

"No shit." The girl rolled her eyes and leaned her head against her brother's shoulder. "So, how was your first day? You know, apart from almost making poor Mrs Flores resign her job?" she asked, grinning up at him.

"Meh." Sherlock shrugged and started the engine. There was absolutely no way he was going to tell his baby sister about what was happening to him - whatever the bloody hell it was.


	2. Collision of Worlds

**A/N:** A huge thank you to everyone who clicked on this story, favourited it, fallowed it and left reviews. You people are amazing! Now, there were several guest comments asking question and since I can't answer directly, I'll do it here.

There will be a couple more characters from the series being introduced later, including Moriarty and Irene (in a very minor role). Mycroft and Ford have already left school and finished university, Mycroft majoring in Law and International Business and Politics (or something along those lines, I haven't fully planned that out, to be honest) and Ford in Astrophysics. The ages and the full names of all Holmes siblings can be found at the end of the chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Summary:** John gains insight into Sherlock's home life while Sherlock himself is up to no good - as usual.

* * *

**Warnings:** drug use, sex (between to men, so if that isn't your cup of tea, skip this story, because there will be a lot more where this came from), swearing

* * *

**Chapter 2 - Collision of Worlds**

Fancying someone was supposed to be wonderful. Wonderful and exciting and absolutely amazing. There were supposed to be secret glances, shy smiles and quick brushes of fingers. It was supposed to be good.

But it wasn't. It wasn't good at all.

It was frightening and scary and alarmingly puzzling. There were no glances, no smiles and no touches. There was nothing of that. Nothing but confusion.

And it felt _so_ wrong.

"Hey, dickhead!"

"Huh?" John's head snapped up and he stared at Bill.

"What's wrong with you? You've been really weird and quiet and shit the last couple of weeks." Bill sucked in his lower lip. He always did that when he was worried.

"Fine. Just tired, I guess." John shrugged and smiled. Judging from his friend's raised eyebrow it wasn't convincing.

"Are you sure? You can talk to us, we won't tell anyone. Promise." Ellie offered and shot him an encouraging smile.

"Nah, it's fine. Really." John tried again. Ellie and Bill shared a concerned look, but thankfully dropped the subject. "How'd your tests go?"

Bill groaned, pulled out the most crumpled up piece of paper John had ever seen and threw it in the other boy's general direction before burying his face in his hands.

"_William!_"

John sniggered, skimming through his friend's answers. The best and most entertaining arguments always started with Ellie calling the boy by his full name. Which he hated. A lot. And there were less amusing ways to spend a free period than listening to the two of them going at each other like the mad idiots they were.

"Whaa'?" Bill mumbled, peeking at her through his fingers.

Ellie hit him over the head with her note pad.

"_Ow!_"

"They should fail you on the grounds of being a fucking slob!" she scolded, glaring at his test as if it had personally offended her.

"At least I'm not cussing like a bloody sailor!" Bill shot back, sticking his lower lip out to sulk.

"Yes, you bloody well are, you wanker!"

"Shut it, _Cerise_!"

John snorted. He was never going to get used to the girl's birth name - _Cerise Elienor Holmes_. No wonder she called herself Ellie.

"I'll be able to afford a name change, because _I_ actually pay attention in class and manage to get more than 12 out of 50 points on a history exam!"

"History's soooooo boring!" Bill moaned.

"Your face is boring!" Ellie remarked snottily.

"That's just jealousy speaking, darling." Bill grinned smugly right before he was tackled to the ground.

"You tosser!" Ellie cried, using one hand to pin the boy's arms over his head and the other to tickle his sides, making him squirm and giggle uncontrollably.

John merely rolled his eyes. He was used to the two of them and their fighting by now. It only ever stopped during lunch when Mycroft or Ford joined them. At first it had been strange to have one of them around every day. He'd asked Ellie about it and she'd just shrugged and said that was what overprotective older brothers did. And then that had been that. Besides, John had soon discovered the good side of the girl constantly being tailed by one of her brothers; free take out, for all of them, every day.

Bill, of course, would say the biggest advantage was having Ford around to talk about sports and girls. Which - according to Ellie - was excruciatingly dull and annoyed her to no end, making it all the more fun for Bill.

John, for his part, was just glad that Sherlock never joined them. He hadn't seen the other boy since the first day and he was actually _very_ relieved about that, because he had absolutely no idea what to say to him. _'Hey, I think I'm falling for you even though we haven't spoken more than five words with each other and you're probably not even feeling that way about me, because why should you? And I'm actually not gay, or at least I thought I wasn't, so there's that too, but I guess with you it's different. Oh and I have no fucking idea why that is, so yeah.'_

Yes, John really didn't mind that Sherlock wasn't there to witness the unravelling of his stupid, embarrassing schoolgirl crush.

"You wanna hang out and finish this sodding essay after PE today?" Bill asked as he flopped down in his seat again, panting heavily.

Ellie joined them a moment later, grinning victoriously. She always won. Bill said she was cheating, Ellie said it was a superior strategy. John knew it to be a mixture of the latter and the fact that Alphas were naturally stronger than either Omegas or Betas. He didn't say anything, however, because he wasn't sure if being physically superior was counted as cheating or not. Bill would probably say yes. And Ellie would definitely say no.

"Sure, we can't go to my house, though. Mum's working the night shift today and is sleeping during the afternoon. Besides, Harry's home too."

Bill pulled a face.

"We could go to my place?" Ellie offered and the boys turned to stare at her. "What?!"

"Nothing. It's just...you never offered before, that's all." Bill shrugged.

"And I never asked why your dad spends so much time with that woman from the corner shop down the street who isn't your mum, have I?" the girl snapped defensively, narrowing her eyes.

"Jesus, calm down there. Forgive me?" Bill asked sweetly, giving the girl his best puppy dog eyes. John chuckled and Ellie rolled her own eyes, but nodded.

"Just have to call Mycroft first to check something."

"What about your parents?" John wondered. He had never actually seen either of the girl's fathers since the Holmes family had relocated back to London six weeks ago. It had mostly been Mycroft - and sometimes Ford - taking her to and from school and even attending the PTA last week.

"Daddy doesn't mind, he loves having people around." Ellie smiled fondly at the mention of the man. "Now shut up, it's ringing."

_"Ellie?"_

"Salut Myco. Ça va?"

_"Ça va, merci."_ There was a pause and John could practically hear Mycroft trying to figure out what was going on. _"Qu'est-ce qui te trouble?"_

"Est-tu à la maison?"

_"Oui?"_

"Est-ce que Aldéric est-la?"

_"Non, je ne crois pas. Papa me dit qu'il est aux Etats-Unis jusqu'à nouvel ordre."_

"Excellent! À bientôt."

She hung up with a huge grin on her face. "My place it is."

"Will your brothers be there?" John asked, suddenly remembering that the chances of running into Sherlock were a lot higher in the guy's own home than they were at school.

"Probably."

John's heart almost stopped. Bill beamed at the prospect of seeing Ford.

"Apart from Sherlock, that is. He's...otherwise occupied." the girl added after a moment, her voice oddly strained.

John let out a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding. That was good, right? He didn't want to see the other boy. He wanted to get over this stupid crush and get back to his normal life.

Right?_ Right?_

* * *

**_13:47_**_ 'Come. - SH'_

The room was spinning, black and white dots dancing in front of Sherlock's eyes. He reached out and made a grab for them, sending the non-existing sparks flying in all directions. With a slightly hysterical and throaty laugh, he pressed the remaining liquid from the syringe into his bloodstream before carelessly throwing it aside.

He moaned happily as the venom began its course through his body, sending jolts of electricity to every last one of his nerves, making his skin tingle delightfully and his muscles relax, finally silencing the constant noise in his head.

It was _glorious_.

Everything mingled together in a tight ball of memories and emotions before dissolving into blissful emptiness. No more anger and resentment towards his father. No more fear of being lonely and isolated. No more need to fulfil expectations and achieve greatness. No more pressure to conform to society's dull and tedious rules. No more feelings, no more emotions. All gone.

Except for John.

_John!_

Sherlock hummed at the thought of the younger boy, his golden hair, his deep blue eyes and his scent.

_The scent! _

Marvellously intoxicating and all consuming, like being wrapped in the softest velvet and caressed by a gentle breeze of fresh, warm summer air.

There were footsteps on the stairs outside, growing louder with every passing moment until the door was pushed open to reveal a pale looking Mycroft.

"No!" Sherlock rasped and promptly began to cough viciously, one hand clamped over his chest to ease away the pain. He didn't want his brother. He wanted Ellie. No, he didn't want Ellie either, he wanted _John_. He wanted to lose himself inside the depths of his warm eyes to never surface again and spend the remainder of his miserable life safely hidden away from the rest of the world.

"Oh, Sherlock." Mycroft sounded defeated as he cupped his brother's face, running a thumb over his sweaty cheek.

"Ellie. Where?" Sherlock croaked and winced, closing his eyes to shut out the light that was now streaming through the open door and into the otherwise dark room.

"At school, where she belongs. And certainly not running after her junkie brother on murder lane!" the older Holmes hissed, his hold on Sherlock's face tightening ever so slightly, betraying a layer of anger waiting to be unleashed.

"You intercept our conversations. Clever. Clever Mycoooo-" He was interrupted by another wave of coughs and fell back on the filthy mattress, cradling his abused arms close to his stomach.

"What did you take, Sherlock? How much?" Mycroft asked, kneeling down beside him and opening one of his brother's eyes to look at the dilated pupils. His other hand reached for Sherlock's wrist, measuring his racing pulse.

"Don't know. Don't care." Sherlock tried to roll away, but Mycroft grabbed his shoulders to hold him steady.

"Please, Sherlock." He was almost pleading now.

"Everything!" the younger brother grinned manically, gesturing at the syringes and little plastic bags scattered around his makeshift bed.

Mycroft's face vanished from his line of sight and Sherlock sighed, waiting for the darkness to pull him under completely, only half-listening to the conversation going on in the background.

"What did you give him?"

"Like I'm gon'a tell you! Besides, yew don't know if i' was me who gave i' ter 'im. Could 'ave been anyone 'ere."

A choked sound and then a sharp intake of breath.

"What did you give my brother?"

"Noth-"

A slap, skin against skin, fist against jaw. Then another brief struggle for oxygen.

"Awright geeezzaa! Here, that's all I gave 'im, I swear! Sorted mate, yeah?" A rustling sound, then some coughing and spitting - blood. "Already looked pret'y wasted when 'e turned up 'ere, though."

"Go."

"This is my roo-"

"GO!"

The dealer scrambled for the door and Sherlock felt Mycroft sitting down beside him, pulling his younger brother's curly head into his lap.

"Why did you come?"

"You know why." Mycroft said, running a hand through Sherlock's hair, moving a few strands out of his eyes.

"Will you stop coming eventually?" Sherlock asked, hating how small and scared he sounded. Mycroft must have noticed too, his voice somewhat softer when he spoke again.

"No, never."

"_Promise me!_"

"I promise, Sherlock."

It suddenly felt good to have Mycroft close and Sherlock moved until he was sitting half on top of his brother, his face nuzzled against the crook of Mycroft's neck, breathing in his familiar scent. Strong, protective arms wrapped themselves around him, holding him tightly, a hand running soothing circles over his back.

"I'm tired."

"Sleep."

"Will you be here when I wake up?"

"Of course."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Sherlock sighed, satisfied, and began to drift off, smiling against his brother's chest when he felt a pair of warm lips pressed to his forehead.

* * *

The Holmes manor was nothing like John had expected it to be - and he had spent an embarrassing amount of time imagining how the family lived.

There was soft, light grey carpet instead of the dark, wooden floors normally associated with houses such as this. The furniture was modern, mostly held in black and white with the odd glass cover or door on a cupboard. The walls were surprisingly lacking in boring old oil paintings. Instead, there were framed photographs, mostly of the four siblings, from various places around the globe, ranging from years back to pretty recent, going by the one showing all the Holmes children, sitting on the same sofa John and Bill were currently waiting on.

John had to grin when he properly looked at it. Whoever had taken it had perfectly captured each of their personalities. Ellie was grinning brightly and making bunny ears behind Ford's head, one leg folded under her body and her own head resting on Mycroft's shoulder. Ford tried - and failed - to look annoyed at his sister's shenanigans, sticking his tongue out at the girl, while Mycroft was in the middle of rolling his eyes, unable to suppress the fond little smile tugging at his lips. Sherlock was perched on the arm of the sofa, ignoring the three of them in favour of staring directly at the camera, one eyebrow raised as if asking; _'Are we done here?'_

"Everything here looks so fucking expensive. I'm afraid I'll break something just by looking at it!" Bill whispered, intimidated, and John nodded in agreement. He didn't even ask why Bill was whispering, it seemed like the appropriate thing to do.

"How long does she need to get changed?" John asked, eyes still scanning the room.

"Women!" Bill snorted and the other boy sniggered.

One of the walls was completely covered with shelves filled with books by authors John had never even heard of. There was a television set Bill was eyeing with considerable interest, definitely costing more than either of them could ever dream to afford. A grand piano, a violin leaning against it, several plush leather armchairs, what looked like some sort of chemical experiment on a small table in the corner, more books stacked on the floor next to a pile of comfy pillows. John took everything in, but his traitorous eyes wandered back to the picture. Or, to be more precise, Sherlock in said picture.

The cheekbones, the perfectly bowed lips, the curls, the delicate pale skin, the-

"It's a beautiful picture, isn't it? I'm amazed they stayed still long enough for me to take it."

"_Jesus fucking Christ!_" Bill exclaimed at the new voice and John blushed furiously when he realised he was still staring at Sherlock with his mouth hanging open.

"Apologies, I didn't mean to startle you boys." the auburn-haired man smiled and John relaxed immediately. He had never met another Omega besides his late great-grandma when he'd been a little boy, but there was no mistaking when it came to 'Daddy' Holmes; the man practically radiated kindness and warmth.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout the swearing there, Mr Holmes." Bill grinned sheepishly and got up to shake the man's hand. John followed suit.

"Please, I've raised four kids, there's nothing I haven't heard." the man laughed cheerfully and the boys couldn't help but smile along. "And please, call me Calvin. Now, let's see;_ 'The other ginger who swears almost as much as Ford and me.'_, that must be you."

"Glad she chose my best attributes to talk about." Bill winced and took the offered hand. "Bill Murray, it's nice to meet you, sir. Erm, Calvin."

"Likewise, dear." Calvin chuckled and turned to John. His smile widened as he looked the boy up and down and before John knew what was happening, he found himself enveloped in a tight hug. "You must be John." Calvin beamed when he pulled back, one hand resting on John's shoulder.

Bill frowned at the friendly greeting, but John found that, surprisingly, he didn't mind in the slightest. _'Must be an Omega thing.'_, he thought and returned the smile.

"Now, did my daughter offer you anything to drink?"

Both boys shook their heads.

Calvin sighed. "I did teach her some manners, you know." he said and motioned them to follow through to the kitchen. "But I'm afraid they didn't stick."

"My parents gave up somewhere along the way." Bill smirked proudly -_ idiot!_ - and John blushed again. Thankfully, Calvin simply chuckled again and opened the fridge.

The three of them were chatting and laughing when Ellie joined them a few minutes later, worriedly chewing her lower lip.

"You should be resting." she said petulantly, wrapping her arms around her father and pressing a kiss to his cheek before burying her face in the back of his cashmere cardigan.

"Sorry, we didn't know you were ill, Ellie never said anything." John apologised and Bill mumbled something around the two biscuits he had crammed into his mouth.

"Don't worry, dear, I'm quite all right." Calvin assured him, but Ellie didn't seem convinced, holding on to her father a little tighter, mumbling something in French neither of the boys understood.

Calvin merely sighed and loosened the girl's grip, turning her around to face him. "I am fine, darling." he repeated and pecked the girl on the forehead before ushering her to one of the bar stools.

"Daddy's girl." Bill whispered when she sat down, earning himself a kick to the shin. Ellie smiled innocently when Calvin turned around at the boy's pained cry, only to immediately deliver a second blow as soon as the man looked the other way again.

Neither of them noticed Calvin's stiff movements and the pained little gasps over their bickering. But John did. And when the man met his eyes, there was something there that almost broke the boy's heart.

* * *

That peaceful moment between being asleep and being fully awake was over much too quickly and the memory of the previous few hours came rushing back; school, a text from his dealer where to find the supplier, drugs, pain, John, bliss, more drugs, Mycroft...

Sherlock's eyes snapped open and met his brother's.

"Welcome back."

Sherlock groaned and tried to sit up, only to collapse back against Mycroft's chest, silently cursing his stupid limbs.

"You almost overdosed." Mycroft sighed, pressing something wet and cold to the back of Sherlock's neck. Sherlock hated how good it felt.

"Did not." the younger brother said stubbornly, stretching his legs and flexing his fingers.

They sat in silence for a long while, Sherlock working on getting some feeling back into his extremities while Mycroft continued running his handkerchief over his brother's neck and face, wiping away sweat and tears.

"You can't keep doing this, Sherlock." Mycroft said when the other boy moved away, resting his back against the wall next to him. "One day I might not be able to get to you in time. You could die, Sherlock. Is that what you want? Because there are easier and cheaper ways to achieve that."

Sherlock pressed his lips into a thin line and kept staring at his bare feet - where the hell were his shoes anyway?

Mycroft sighed again and ran a hand over his face. "Do you realise what this is doing to me? To _us_? Do you even care about-"

"Don't!" Sherlock hissed angrily, lifting his head to glare at his brother. "Go away!"

"No."

Sherlock grunted and closed his eyes, slamming his head back against the wooden wall. He regretted it a second later when bile started rising up his throat and threatened to choke him. He carelessly spat it onto the floor. It was dirty anyway.

"Drink this." Mycroft said, shoving a bottle of water across the mattress.

Sherlock took a few greedy gulps before pulling his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on top of them, eyes closed again. "You know that it's not true. I do care."

"You sure make an effort to convince us otherwise."

"Don't act like you're so perfect, Mycroft!" Sherlock snapped, whirling around to glare at his brother. "You are just as screwed up as the rest of us!"

"At least I try!" the older sibling barked back, meeting Sherlock's eyes with an equally angry expression.

"What's the point?"

"You are starting to sound exactly like father!" Mycroft snarled, freezing and paling when he realised what he had just thrown at his brother. "Sherlock, I'm-"

"Don't! Don't you dare!" Sherlock cried and jumped up, stumbling to the door.

"I didn't mean-" Mycroft tried, pulling himself up as well and reaching out for the other boy.

"Piss off!" Sherlock hissed, swallowing the hurt and slamming the door behind himself.

* * *

"Is it always like this?" John wanted to know when Calvin stepped out to answer the phone.

Ellie frowned at him and began to sprinkle her side of the pizza with a ridiculous amount of cheese. "What'cha mean?"

The boy opened his mouth and closed it again, turning a piece of salami around in his fingers and avoiding the girl's eyes. The afternoon at the Holmes manor had been, without exaggerating, one of the best he'd had in a pretty long time for several reasons;

Calvin had made them pies for tea, different kinds for each of them none the less. Not only were pies awesome as it was, John couldn't even remember the last time his mum had cooked something for him. No, that wasn't true. He remembered, he just didn't want to. It had been almost six years ago and he'd been ill with the flu. Holly had heated up a can of soup after John had whined and cried for nearly an hour, slamming it on his bedside table with poorly concealed annoyance written all over her face.

After tea, Calvin had helped them with their essays, actually sitting down with them at the table, genuinely interested in what they were doing, providing useful tips and showing them how and where to improve their writing. He had brought them his tablet computer to do some research. John's own computer was so old and slow, he usually had to use the ones in the school library. The older Omega had praised them when they'd had good ideas and laughed along with them when they - mostly Bill and Ellie - had started fooling around. Homework had been fun, for fuck's sake!

When Bill's brother had come over to pick him up, Calvin had invited the man in, chatting and enjoying a cup of tea with him before sending them on their way. John doubted that his mum knew the name of a single one of his friends, let alone their parents or siblings.

And then Calvin had invited John to stay for dinner, offering to let them make their own pizza. _Pizza!_ - with real meat and vegetables, not the cheap frozen ones that tasted like cardboard. He had asked John questions about his day, school, girls - which had been a bit embarrassing, causing Ellie to chuckle and snigger - and loads of other stuff. And he had listened and offered advice, laughed with them and just generally been...present.

"John?" Ellie snapped her fingers in front of his face, starting to look concerned.

"Sorry." the boy grinned sheepishly and placed the piece of meat on the dough. "It's just, is he always so...involved? Like, is he always around when you're here?"

"Well, yeah. Most of the time, if he isn't away on business with Aldéric. Why, was he annoying you with his interrogation? I can tell him to back off if it makes you feel uncomfortable?! He doesn't mean anything by it, it's just how he is and-"

"No, not at all. Annoying, I mean." John interrupted her. "It was good, actually."

Ellie tilted her head. It was her time to make a pretty decent impression of a fish. "Good? What do you-"

"Darling, your father's one the phone. He would like to talk to you."

The girl groaned and tossed some mushrooms onto her pizza. "Tell him I don't give a shit!"

"_Ellie!_" Calvin's head appeared in the door and he scowled at his daughter. The girl narrowed her eyes, wiped her hands on her jeans - causing her dad to sigh in frustration - and stalked out into the hall. John heard her bark _"Quoi?"_ into the receiver before Calvin closed the door, taking over the cooking.

"Thank you." John said after a while, eyes fixed on his food.

"Whatever for, dear?" Calvin asked, blinking at the boy in surprise.

"Everything, I guess." John shrugged, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "The food, helping with our school project, letting me stay over here and...well, everything, really."

"You're a friend of my daughter's, it goes without saying." the man smiled and John tried to smile back, but didn't quite manage. Calvin frowned at him for a moment, then his eyes went wide with realisation. "Oh." he said, running a hand through his hair and studying the boy.

John lowered his gaze and concentrated on chopping the onion in front of him until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

"How about I call your mum and see if it's all right if you spend the night? I'm sure Ellie would be delighted to spend some more time with you."

"That's really nice, but you don't have to-"

"Do you not want to stay?" Calvin raised an eyebrow and the boy shook his head. "It's fine, John. You are welcome here any time." he smiled, gently squeezing the blonde's shoulder.

"Why?" John demanded insecurely, biting his lower lip.

"Because everybody needs a place where they can feel at home." Calvin said earnestly, smiled again and pressed a kiss on top of John's head before taking the baking tin and putting it in the oven.

* * *

"You're dripping on the carp-"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and pushed past the man into the flat, throwing his soaked coat on the floor somewhere along the way to the bedroom.

"You pick that up!"

Still ignoring him, Sherlock continued to strip until he reached the bathroom, a pair of pants now the only thing covering his shivering body.

There was a sigh behind him. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened!" Sherlock snapped and turned on the tap, holding his stiff hands under the warm water, feeling gradually returning to the frozen digits.

"Mm, sure." The man's voice was dripping with sarcasm which - unsurprisingly - only caused Sherlock to grow angrier.

"Leave me alone." he grunted and tried to close the door, but the man was quick and slid a foot in to prevent exactly that from happening. Sherlock glared at him.

"In case you forgot; this is _my_ place, you're standing in _my_ bathroom. And I really don't have the energy to deal with one of your stupid moods, so you better give me a pretty damn good reason why I should let you stay here or-"

The man was silenced by Sherlock's lips on his. They hit the doorframe, Sherlock's hands on his hips, effectively holding him in place while he explored the other man's mouth, nibbling on his bottom lip.

"You stupid fucker." the man said, but a grin started to spread across his face. "That's a good start, but I'm not fully convinced yet." he smirked, slipping his thumbs under the waistband of Sherlock's underwear, pushing them down over his hips.

"Is that so, Victor?" Sherlock asked in mock shock, grinning right back.

"Mm." Victor hummed and raised an eyebrow at the younger boy.

Sherlock stepped out of his pants and dropped to his knees, pulling Victor's zipper down in the process. Victor moaned and had to steady himself against the wall with one hand when Sherlock licked a wet line from the base of his balls over his half hard cock, right to the tip, before taking him into his mouth completely. Sherlock smirked around the flesh in his mouth and began to suck in earnest, eliciting a string of little gasps from the other man.

It didn't take long before Victor tugged at Sherlock's curls, sending jolts of pain through his head. But the younger man got the hint and stood up, leaving a trail of kisses and bites along Victor's thighs, stomach, chest, neck and jaw.

"Good boy." Victor smirked and one of his hands wandered around Sherlock's waist, between his cheeks. "Come 'ere."

Sherlock stared at him for a moment, his senses unusually slow from the residual drugs in his system. He smiled hungrily when he spotted the white powder coating Victor's gums and teeth and slowly licked his way into the other man's mouth, swirling his tongue to reach as much of the desired substance as possible. His eyes snapped open and he hissed when one of the older man's finger's breached his unprepared entrance. He tried to pull away.

"Ssh, don't fight it." Victor breathed, biting at Sherlock's neck and sucking at one of his earlobes. "No need to show me what a big, bad Alpha you are. I'm stronger." he whispered, pushing in a second finger. "So." A third finger. "Much." He began to scissor them, causing a cry of pain from the curly-haired teen. "Stronger!"

Sherlock let himself be thrown against the wall face first, Victor right behind him, one hand holding his wrists in place above his head. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, swallowing the whimper that threatened to escape him as Victor forced himself into him roughly, biting down on his shoulder.

"So..._argh_...tight!"

Sherlock's mind was drifting, oddly detached from his aching body, waiting for the pain to subside and the drugs and pleasure to kick in. He could feel Victor behind him,_ inside him_, his hands scratching down his sides, probably leaving dark red marks, moaning and grunting as his hips snapped forward again and again, the sensation starting to be more delightful by the minute.

"Nothing like fucking another Alpha." he growled and Sherlock heard himself moan, pushing back against the man. Victor hummed in agreement and after another few hard thrusts, emptied himself inside Sherlock with a throaty cry.

Dazed, Sherlock barely registered being shoved into the shower, or the hand grabbing his still present erection, bringing him his own release with only a couple of strokes. The warm water raining down on them made him sleepy and he let Victor half carry him to the bed without protest. He was almost completely gone by the time the older man decided it was time for round two, sliding inside Sherlock's throbbing hole and attaching a warm mouth to his neck.

Sherlock woke up several hours later with a sleeping Victor still buried inside him.

* * *

John felt slightly guilty when he realised what time it was. He hadn't meant to stay in the shower for over forty minutes, but _damn_, was it nice to have a bathroom to himself for a while, leaving enough hot water for him so he didn't have to rush things for once.

He stretched, curling his toes into the unbelievingly soft material of the carpet and grinned. He could get used to this. He flopped down on the huge double bed - seriously, best guest room ever! - and closed his eyes, humming happily. For a moment he considered staying right there, ignoring the fact that it was only half past nine on a Friday night and that Ellie was probably already wondering what was taking him so long. Not that it was his fault that the shower had half a bazillion functions he'd simply _had_ to try out.

Sighing, John got up and started rubbing a towel over his hair, moving to the chair where he had deposited his clothes earlier. It was empty and the boy frowned. He whirled around, confused, until he spotted a pair of neatly folded pyjama pants, a t-shirt and a pair of comfy looking woollen socks on the desk in the corner. Surely they hadn't felt the need to throw his things in the wash, had they?

Of course they had and he chuckled as he picked up the socks and pulled them on. The laughter died in his throat when he remembered the state of his uniform - second hand, a size too big and barely holding itself together in several places. He flushed dark red, suddenly feeling completely out of place in the posh environment. He quickly slipped into the pyjama bottoms - Ford's, going by the style and faint smell still recognisable over the laundry detergent - and tucked the shirt over his head. He picked up the towels and threw them into the laundry bin. He may not have been raised by the rich and famous, but he still had _some_ manners, thank you very much.

It was out in the hall where he caught sight of himself in a mirror and had to smile despite the uneasy feeling of intruding into a world he didn't belong to that was making itself known in his gut. The trousers were black with dark blue stripes, his favourite colour, and the shirt was sporting the cover of the 'Fly on the Wall' album by AC/DC - a pretty fucking awesome band! It was silly, but somehow it made him relax, knowing Ellie had gone through the trouble of sorting something out that he would be comfortable in. Bless her.

"There are no issues about him being an Omega?"

John stopped in front of the girl's room when he heard Calvin talking. His tone was warm and interested and even though he felt wrong doing it, the boy crept closer to the door, listening.

"Nuh-uh. He does smell nice, I guess, but that's about it."

"And John? What about him?"

"I'm not sure." Ellie sounded like she was chewing her lower lip. "I think it's a bit overwhelming, if he's with all of us together, you know? I mean, he hasn't said anything, but there were..._signs_."

John silently cursed. She just had to notice that, didn't she? Then again, at least she wasn't aware of the effect Sherlock had on him. Now _that_ would be embarrassing!

"That's only natural, darling." Calvin said gently. "It's how nature makes sure we stay obedient to the Alpha population."

"I don't like it." Ellie murmured petulantly and John had to grin at the thought of how she was probably crossing her arms and scrunching up her nose, giving her that sulky toddler appearance. "It's not fair that we can make him - _all of you_ - feel like that. It's disgusting and wrong. I hate it."

"You don't have to act on it."

"And I won't!" the girl stated determined.

"That's that, then." the man chuckled and John smiled at the sound. "I am extremely proud of you, love." he added after a moment, his voice cracking ever so slightly.

"Daddy?"

"Mm?"

"I wish the others were here. Do you think he would be different if they were with us?"

"I don't know." Calvin sighed sadly and John could feel the mood changing. The situation began to feel too intimate for him to be there and he took a step backwards, intent to go back to the guest room. The floor squeaked and the conversation on the other side of the door came to a halt. John held his breath, praying.

"John?"

_Shit!_ "Hi there." he smiled sheepishly, slipping into the room.

"Well, I'll leave you two." Calvin said and got up from where he'd been sitting on the girl's bed. "Behave and don't stay up too long." he warned half-heartedly, pressing a kiss on top of his daughter's curly head.

"It's the weekend, Daddy!" Ellie protested and rolled her eyes. John chuckled.

Calvin raised an eyebrow at her, but they could both see the smile tucking at his lips. "Goodnight." he said, ruffled John's hair and left the room.

"He's going to be back with snacks in about ten minutes." Ellie sighed, not without a certain fondness, before moving to the end of the bed and clapping her hands together. "Now, what do you wanna play?" she asked, pointing at a stack of games on the floor next to the telly.

"Let's shoot something." John smirked and caught the controller she tossed in his direction.

* * *

Ellie was engrossed in the game, beating John spectacularly, but the boy wasn't paying much attention anyway.

"This is bullshit!" Ellie exclaimed, startling John. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you today?"

"What do you mean?" John asked, cringing when she fixed her pale eyes on him in an intensive stare.

"You're acting weird. I've killed you at least a dozen times in the last half hour, it's not like you." the girl frowned, switching the telly off and turning to face her friend.

"You're mad 'cause you're winning?" John grinned, but Ellie only narrowed her eyes.

"Is it because you overheard Daddy and me talking? It's all right, you know, doesn't matter. We were talking about you, so no harm done with the eavesdropping."

John groaned. "How do you even know-"

"How much you've heard? Please!" she snorted, waving a dismissive hand at him.

"Who are the others?" John spluttered. It had been nagging him all evening, the way Ellie had talked about them; lovingly yet unbelievably sad.

"My brothers. Augustin, Edric and Drury." the girl said without hesitation, leaning back against the headboard of the bed, pointing at some of the pictures hanging there - ultrasound pictures.

"Your bro- there's _more_ of you?" John gaped. He hadn't expected that. Actually, he hadn't had any idea what to expect, he reminded himself. "Have they already moved out? And why are they not on the crest?" he asked, remembering the conversation they'd had on their first day.

"They're dead." the girl shrugged uncomfortably.

"Shit, I'm sorry! What happened? No, wait, we don't have to talk abo-"

"They were never really alive." Ellie interrupted him, paling a bit, a haunted expression on her face.

"Oh." John bit his lip, playing with the hem of his shirt. He may have been an idiot sometimes, but even he knew when _not_ to press an issue.

Ellie sighed. "How much do you know about Alpha and Omega mating?"

"Not very much." he admitted sheepishly, surprised that the girl continued talking about the matter.

"Well, you know about suppressants and birth control since you're taking them, right?" John nodded. "There are several other drugs used to achieve certain favoured outcomes. The child of an Alpha and an Omega has equal chances to inherit either parent's gender and it will never be a Beta."

"Yeah, we learned that in biology. Alpha and Omega results in either Alpha or Omega. Alpha and Beta will most likely have Beta kids, Omegas and Betas will always have Beta offspring. And Beta and Beta will normally have Beta kids, but can also have Alpha or Omega children, depending on the family history and all that. Like with me."

"Exactly. Now, in order to continue an Alpha bloodline, the Alpha parent wants to have as many Alpha children as possible. Daddy is an Omega and Aldéric's an Alpha, meaning there's a fifty percent chance of getting an Alpha child and a fifty percent chance of getting an Omega child."

"But all four of you are Alphas. Shouldn't there at least be one Omega? I mean, according to the math." John frowned and Ellie nodded, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Hormones."

John blankly looked at the girl.

"They increase the chances of receiving Alpha offspring to about eighty to ninety-five percent, it differs from person to person."

"Right, I've read something about that. It's rather controversial, isn't it?"

"Do you remember why?"

John tried to conjure a picture of the article he'd read in his doctor's office once. Hormones that increase the chances of bearing an Alpha child, painful procedure for the Omega parent due to biological incompatibility, creating a hostile environment for Omega foetuses, making it impossible for them to develop properly, resulting in-

"Oh my God!"

Ellie nodded again, lips pressed into a thin line.

"He miscarried? All of them? Three times?" John asked numbly. He couldn't comprehend this information, the fact that people would risk their child's life for the sake of having the preferred gender. "And Calvin was fine with that?"

"Of course he wasn't!" the girl snapped, glaring at him. Her fists were clenched, her body trembling, moisture beginning to gather in the corners of her eyes.

"But why-"

"Disagreeing with Aldéric Holmes is something you simply _don't do_, John. It never fares well to anger a tyrant."

"He's really that bad?"

"Worse." Ellie said weakly, rubbing at her eyes. John could see her lower lip trembling and the effort it took her to hold back. And suddenly he felt the overpowering need to comfort her, to make everything all right again and be close to her. Without thinking, he moved closer and pulled the girl into his arms.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?" Ellie asked, pulling back to be able to look at her friend.

"Not sure." John admitted, noticing how their faces were only a few centimetres apart. He moved a hand to cup her cheek and the girl copied his movements, gently running a thumb over his face.

"What am _I_ doing?" she choked out, straddling John's lap and frowning down at him.

Beyond words at this point, the boy merely shrugged and craned his neck, pressing their lips together.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry, please don't hate me! This is a JohnLock story, I promise. We'll get there. If you were wondering about the two Alphas having sex with each other, this isn't all that uncommon in my version of the Alpha/Omega universe. I hinted at the fact that there are very few Alphas and Omegas around and some of them, including the Holmes children, don't really live according to their "society's" rules. But more of that later!

Translations:

- Salut Myco. Ça va? ~ Hello Myco. How are you?  
- Ça va, merci. ~ Fine, thank you.  
- Qu'est-ce qui te trouble? ~ What's troubling you?  
- Est-tu à la maison? ~ Are you at home?  
- Oui? ~ Yes?  
- Est-ce que Aldéric est-la? ~ Is Aldéric there?  
- Non, je ne crois pas. Papa me dit qu'il est aux Etats-Unis jusqu'à nouvel ordre. ~ No, I don't believe so. Daddy told me he's in the United States until further notice.  
- Excellent! À bientôt. ~ Excellent! See you later.

The full names of the Holmes children, if you are interested, are (sorted in order of birth);

Mycroft Aldéric Warrane Holmes (25), Rutherford Beal Holmes (24), Augustin Karel Holmes (†21), Sherlock Percival Holmes (18), Edric Sage & Drury Senet Holmes (†16) and Cerise Elienor Holmes (14).

And lastly, I'll _try_ to update this story every two to three weeks, probably on Sunday evenings. I'm not making any promises, though, because there's work, school and my best mate whose boyfriend broke up with him yet again *rolls eyes* Anyway, see you guys soon!


	3. Kisses and Cuddles

**A/N:** As promised, a brand new chapter for you guys. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Summary:** The title pretty much sums it up already.

* * *

**Warnings:** swearing, (underage)***** kissing and making-out

***** When I say underage, I mean under the age of 16 (which is the age of consent where I live as well as England). Here in Switzerland, we also have the 'three year' rule, meaning if person A is over 16 and person B is under 16, sexual activity is still completely legal as long as the age gap between A and B is three years or less. Just, if anyone cares.

* * *

**Chapter Three - Kisses and Cuddles**

John was completely lost in the moment.

The feeling of Ellie's soft, warm lips on his, moving down over his jaw to his neck and back up again, leaving a hot trail on his sensitive skin. The deep, overwhelming Alpha scent, more prominent than ever, causing him to shudder in anticipation. Her hands, one squeezing his hip, the other gently moving over his chest to cup the base of his neck, tugging at his silky blond strands. And the delicious sounds coming from deep within her chest, sweet little moans and hungry, desperate grunts in time with the movements of her tongue against his.

"Joh-n..."

The boy moaned into her mouth at the almost obscene pronunciation of his name, the little hitch in her voice making it _oh_ so much hotter. Without thinking he threw back his head, submissively bearing his throat and Ellie lost no time, sinking her teeth into the exposed flesh.

"Shit!" John groaned, trembling hands trying to grip something, anything, his fingers ending up digging into the girl's back. He was going to have the mother of all love bites tomorrow, but he couldn't bring himself to give a toss about the comments his mates were undoubtedly going to throw at him. He craned his neck, meshing their lips together again. He was pretty sure that if they were in a movie, _this_ would be the moment fireworks started to go off somewhere in the background.

"John." Ellie breathed again, more clearly this time.

"Mm?" The sixteen year old boy side of his brain had stopped functioning properly ages ago and the Omega part agreed that continuing this was a top priority.

"John, stop!"

John didn't want to stop. This was good. Extremely good, utterly awesome, pretty fucking amaz-

_"John!"_

The boy blinked up at Ellie, completely dazzled by the sudden change of position. He was lying on his back, both his wrist in a slightly painful grasp from Ellie, who was sitting on his legs, staring down at him, panting. Her face was torn, several different emotions taking turns to make an appearance; confusion, arousal, some more confusion, embarrassment, a bit of regret and another wave of raw bewilderment. John met her eyes and his heart sank. He'd been kissing, no, _snogging_, Ellie. Ellie Holmes. A fucking Holmes! The sister of _Sherlock_ Holmes, the guy he'd been lusting after for the past few weeks. The little sister of Sherlock, the _fourteen year old_ sister of Sherlock Holmes. The sister of Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes. _Mycroft!_ Yep, he was as good as dead.

"Oh my God!" he groaned, cheeks flushing pink. Thankfully the girl decided it was safe to release his hands and he proceeded to bury his face in them. He could manage to stay there, behind his hands. For, like, _ever_!

"That was rather interesting."

John cracked open an eye and risked a glance at Ellie through his fingers. She had the tip of her thumb pressed against her swollen lower lip, brows furrowed in concentration and her face was a mixture of genuinely intrigued and slightly smug. Overall, she was far too calm and casual, John decided, considering what they'd been doing only moments earlier. "Interesting?"

"Yes, wouldn't you say?" she asked, a smile spreading across her face. "I've never had the chance to be physically close with an Omega. I didn't think it would have this kind of an impact, _that_ was certainly a surprise. This is glorious!" she beamed, actually clapping her hands together in excitement.

"Glorious? Wait, I don't-" John began, only to interrupt himself when her words properly sank in. "This wasn't your first kiss, was it? Oh dear God, please tell me it wasn't-"

"Of course not."

"Good, that's...yeah, good." He rubbed a hand over his face. "Look, I don't know what came over me and I'm sorry if I let you to believe that I...that this...between us...we..." he trailed of, helplessly gesturing with his hands. Ellie frowned at him for a couple of seconds and then broke out in full blown laughter, rolling away from the boy and settling down on the bed next to him. Not the reaction John usually got when kissing people.

"Oh God, John! You and me? That's ridiculous!" the girl snorted, wiping a stray tear away from her eye. "Utterly ridiculous indeed!"

"Yeah, thanks." the young Omega grimaced, a little put out. Not that he wasn't glad that there weren't any serious feelings to make this situation even more awkward, but she didn't have to be so cruel about it now, did she?

"Sorry, I'm sorry." Ellie sighed, still trying to suppress the grin tugging at her lips. She propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at John, smiling warmly. "It's not like that. You're nice and cute and I care about you. I mean, you're a friend, a bloody good one, considering I've only known you for a few weeks. But that's it."

"So, what was that, then?" John asked, unable not to smile back. Damn her charm!

"Pheromones. Basic chemistry, John."

"Oh."

She frowned. "You sound disappointed?"

"No, it's not that. It's just, that was intense, you know?" Ellie nodded. "I had no idea what kind of..._power_ all this Alpha and Omega business held over me. It's fucking scary!"

"You tell me! Do you have any idea how hard it was to regain control over myself? Tough shit, I can tell you!" the girl laughed, falling back down on the mattress.

John chuckled and they fell silent, lying beside each other, shoulders touching and, much to his surprise, it was exactly like it had been all the times before, just two mates hanging out, completely comfortable with each other. No signs whatsoever of a heavy make-out session having taken place.

"John?"

"Mm?"

"Are you up for an experiment?"

John turned his head and gulped at the predatory look in the girl's eyes. "What kind of experiment?"

"Kissing, John! Do keep up!" she said, rolling her eyes in what he'd learned was a slightly annoyed fashion. "Come along!" she grinned and jumped up, offering him her hand and pulling him up before darting out of the room.

"I'm _so_ going to regret this." John murmured to himself, nevertheless following her out into the hall.

* * *

Sherlock wriggled until he had disentangled himself from the heavy body on top of him and rolled onto his back with a sigh, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. His body ached in all the right places and his mind was still comfortably fuzzy and quiet. He grinned.

"You going?" Victor mumbled sleepily, blindly reaching out for the other man. Sherlock carefully avoided the touch.

"Obviously."

"It's the middle of the night."

"I'm well aware of that, thank you very much."

"You're insufferable, do you know _that_?" the older man groaned and finally got a hold of Sherlock, tugging him back against his chest, humming in satisfaction. His hand wandered from Sherlock's arm, down over his elbow to his chest and stomach before settling on the bony hip, squeezing gently. He pulled the lean body closer until they were pressed together and placed a hand on the younger man's face, rubbing a thumb over his cheek. "God, you're beautiful."

"So I've been told." Sherlock disliked this part. Very much so, in fact. This level of intimacy, _closeness_, was, outside the heat and frenzy of an imminent sexual encounter, rather disagreeable.

"Bastard." Victor chuckled and leaned forward, but Sherlock shifted, spinning his face away from the pair of incoming lips. Victor sighed. "Still?"

"It's nothing personal."

"Yeah, 'course not." the older man snorted, rolling away.

_'Here we go again.'_, Sherlock thought, clenching his jaw. "I have informed you, on more than one occasion in the past, that this sort of physical contact makes me-"

"Uncomfortable, yeah. Me sticking my cock up your arse is fine, but _oh behold_ if I try and plant one on you." Victor sneered, more than just a hint of agitation in his voice. "You're bloody weird, Holmes."

Sherlock merely rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored him in favour of hunting down his clothes, not even looking at the other man until he was dressed again. He never saw Victor coming and was negatively surprised when he found himself pressed against the nearest wall with a wet mouth firmly attached to his own. With an annoyed grunt he pushed against Victor's chest and the other man stepped back, a smug grin plastered on his face. Sherlock glared at him and turned on his heels, slamming the door to the flat considerably louder than strictly necessary.

The last thing he heard before vanishing in the night was a low chuckle.

Bloody Victor!

* * *

"What the _hell_ are you doing?"

"What's it look like?"

"Like you're breaking into one of your brothers' rooms, that's what it bloody looks like!" John hissed, making sure no one was hearing their conversation.

"Probably 'cause that's exactly what I am doing." Ellie smirked when the lock clicked and she pushed the door open.

"Whose is it anyway? Please don't let it be Mycroft's, he scares the shit out of me as it is, I don't need snooping around in his room added to the list of things he's going to punch me for. You know, the list also containing sticking my tongue down his beloved baby sister's throat?" the boy said, voice dripping with sarcasm, and followed her, instantly realising that it was definitely _not_ Mycroft's bedroom they were standing in.

He quietly closed the door, eyes wandering around shamelessly. There were books and clothes scattered all around the floor, only interrupted by the odd piece of furniture, including an enormous desk, holding what appeared to be some sort of chemical experiment. Beakers, test tubes, vials, Petri dishes, bottles filled with brightly coloured liquids, a Bunsen burner, scalpels - it looked like some sort of super villain laboratory. John sniggered.

"Sherlock's." Ellie said absently, motioning for him to sit down on the bed. Which he did, after carefully shoving a pile of papers and several zip lock bags with dead bugs - _eww!_ - out of the way. He inhaled deeply and wrinkled his nose. If he didn't know better, he'd insist that they were breathing some kind of foul smelling acid, not air. Which, now that he thought about it, seemed entirely possible, given the rumours about Sherlock that were going around at school.

"See if you can find my shirt as long as we're in here. Pink Floyd, 'Dark Side of the Moon'."

"Why would he have your clothes?" John asked confused, crooking an eyebrow at the girl, who had started rifling through the things on the lab table.

"It's tight on him."

The Omega very nearly chocked. "Sorry, _what?_"

Ellie sighed, shooting him an impatient look. "Some bloke down at one of the bars he goes to fancies him. Wearing tight clothes equals free entry and cheaper drinks."

John swallowed hard. This wasn't the time to imagine Sherlock, strutting around with only a thin layer of fabric clinging to his chest, smiling that dazzling smile and bating those incredibly long lashes to get his way with people._ 'No, seriously, stop it, you moron!'_, he scolded himself and went down on his knees in search of the troublemaker. He was halfway under the bed when the sound of breaking glass startled him into banging his head on the bed frame. Cursing, he pushed himself up, rubbing the already forming bump.

"What are you doing?"

Ellie didn't look at him and kept staring at the little broken bottle instead, some kind of liquid starting to burn a hole through the wood of the table, a little stream of velvet smoke descending up into the air. She smirked. "Revenge, John!"

"What? Why?"

"He almost killed one of my pet rats. Oh yes, _he_ says the experiment was perfectly safe, but Oscar's sudden lack of fur tells a different story. Stupid wanker." she grumbled, pushing a full carton of brand new beakers onto the floor, watching in satisfaction as they all shattered.

John grinned and rolled his eyes. Sisters!

"Did you find the shirt?" The boy shook his head. "Bugger, that was one of my favourites. Ah well, come here, I think I got everything right." the Alpha girl smiled, studying a test tube by holding it up into the light.

"You think?" John asked, warily, joining her at the table.

"I'm like 97% sure. Here, take a big sip."

"No way!" John stared at the viscous brown goo and scrunched up his face. Absolutely not!

"Oh, for the love of-" the girl groaned. "I'm not trying to poison you, you daft idiot!"

"Are you sure about that?"

"Chicken." she smirked and brought it up to her own lips, swallowing half of it before holding it out to John.

With a defeated sigh, the boy took it and drank the rest of what looked like Satan's idea of a cocktail and promptly began to cough and spit, sticking out his tongue. "What the actual fuck, Ellie?"

"Just wait a couple of seconds."

"Why, what's supposed to-" John began and then fell silent. The ghastly taste in his mouth and throat was gone, replaced by, well, nothing. He couldn't even taste himself, which was more than a little odd. "What the hell?"

"Told you it would work." Ellie grinned smugly. "Now, shut your eyes and hold your nose closed."

"Why?"

The girl sighed and rubbed her forehead. "This is getting tiresome. Do it, John!"

"You are so bloody weird." he sighed, but complied. A moment later he found Ellie's lips pressed against his again and he gasped, opening his eyes. "What exactly are-"

"What else did you expect from an experiment about kissing? Now shut up and concentrate."

"Unbelievable." the boy muttered, but did as he was told and closed his eyes again. He moved his own mouth against the girl's, prying her lips open with his tongue. The sensation was nowhere near as intoxicating and overwhelming as before, he realised. Without seeing, smelling or tasting her, it was nothing more than a simple kiss. Not a bad one, but not a spectacular, toe curling, romantic comedy film 'the boy finally got the girl' kiss either.

They broke apart after only a minute and Ellie quickly pulled a piece of paper out from somewhere beneath the mess on the table and began looking for a pen.

"You are not seriously going to take notes?" John chuckled, already knowing the answer to that one. She was fast slipping into what he had decided to call 'science mode', her default setting for when something piqued her interest. John found it strangely endearing - probably because it was how he expected Sherlock to behave.

"Of course I am! How else am I supposed to compare this to later experiences?"

"Oh, of course. How silly of me."

"Indeed." the girl agreed, picked up a half burnt pencil and started scribbling, the tip of her tongue visible in the corner of her mouth.

John smiled fondly and sat back down on the bed, watching her. "Hey, just out of curiosity; how long before this effect wears off?" he asked after a while when he noticed that the inside of his mouth was still completely without taste.

"Couple of minutes. I think. Maybe half an hour. Two or three hours at the most."

"I hate you so much." John groaned.

Ellie looked up and smirked. "No, you don't."

* * *

Eating was such a dull task. It took up a ridiculous amount of time and, as if that in itself hadn't been irritating enough, slowed down the body during the time needed to digest, not even providing the beautifully distracting slow-motion view of the world Sherlock craved - and found in the drugs. No, a boring, hindering lethargy, distracting and annoying him to no end. So for the last three days, Sherlock had successfully ignored the rumblings of his stomach, the dizziness and all the other signs of his body screaming at him to supply it with at least a minimal amount of nutrition.

Sherlock Holmes was not going to give in to the preposterous demands of his body - a mere form of transport for his intellect.

Which is why it felt even more like a defeat when he found himself standing in front of the fridge, staring at its contents with disgust written all over his face. Apples - dull. Chocolate digestives - preferably not. Vodka - not what he was looking for, but becoming more and more of an option the longer he thought about it. After several long minutes, Sherlock settled for a slice of cold, left over pizza, picking up the jar of frozen fish eyes as well while he was at it. He had meant to test a theory for a while now, no reason not to do it tonight.

Angrily chewing on the food, he slid out of the kitchen and bounced up the stairs, not bothering to stifle his movements. It was hardly his fault that other people chose to sleep at half past one on a Saturday morning, was it now? He ventured to the upstairs sitting room, disposing of the crust in a nearby potted plant. The room was soothingly dark and he opened both of the French windows, closing his eyes and letting the cool air wash over him. Night time was so much more desirable than the day.

Swirling around, he strode over to his little chemistry table - he wasn't inclined to go back to his room just yet, fearing _the smell_ hadn't completely vanished yet - and opened the jar, using a knife to scrape out some of the eyes. He carefully placed them in a grinder and added a few drops of a sizzling liquid before pulpifying the mixture. Satisfied with the results, he turned on the Bunsen burner, poured everything into a beaker and put it in place over the heat. After less than a minute the liquid turned dark purple and began to bubble. Sherlock grinned, turned off the burner and took out a pipette, adding a bit of his experiment to a slide.

"Are you going to stand there the entire night?" the curly-haired Alpha asked and placed the slide under his microscope without so much as looking in the other boy's direction.

"Water." John spluttered, surprised, standing in the doorway and awkwardly shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "Just, erm, getting something to drink. That's all."

Silence fell and Sherlock had almost forgotten the boy's presence until he spoke up again.

"What are you doing?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"I'd rather not."

"Oh. Okay." John sounded..._odd_, and Sherlock finally turned his head.

_'Tightly gripping the glass, unable to hold his fingers still - nervous. Avoids meeting my eyes, therefore nervous because of me. Keeps tugging at the collar of his shirt and-'_ Sherlock jumped up and was towering over John in an instant, narrowing his eyes at him. Trembling ever so slightly - _'Why is that, exactly?'_ - he reached out to touch the dark red spot on John's neck.

"It's not what you think!" John said immediately, voice high and squeaky.

"So you are telling me that you _haven't_ been kissing my sister and that you _didn't_ let her chew on your neck?"

"Well...yeah, but it's not like that. It was an experiment!"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and enjoyed the sight of John faltering and swallowing hard. Served him right, too. He had absolutely no business doing _that_ with Ellie, John was supposed to be _his_ and - _wait, what? _The older teen took a tentative step closer, suddenly surrounded by John's scent, and breathed in deeply. He was practically bent over the smaller boy now, their noses almost touching, their breaths mingling with each other's. Slowly, Sherlock lifted a hand, fingertips ghosting over John's cheek. John gasped and his eyes went wide, giving Sherlock the perfect view of those deep blue orbs and dark, blown wide pupils.

Sherlock's mind went completely and utterly blank and he leaned forward, closing the final distance between them, and sealed his mouth to John's.

* * *

_"It was an experiment!"_

John regretted his choice of words as soon as the sentence had left his mouth, biting his lower lip and searching Sherlock's face for any indication as to just how much trouble he was in. The older boy, however, seemed far away, brows furrowed and eyes staring at nothing in particular.

Pressing himself against the wall and as far away from the other body as possible, the blonde took a deep breath, realising too late what a colossal mistake that would be. His nostrils filled with Sherlock's scent and his knees almost gave out beneath him. _Why_ exactly wasn't he running his hands through those deliciously soft looking curls? _Why_ exactly wasn't he probing that long, pale neck with his tongue? _Why_ exactly wasn't he pulling Sherlock closer until their bodies were touching? _Why_ exactly wasn't he exploring those perfectly bowed lips with his mouth?

John couldn't think of a single reason.

And then Sherlock's fingers were on his cheek and everything was just _too much_ and he gasped. The world seemed to slow down around them as Sherlock leaned closer, never breaking eye-contact, and kissed John. A simple, firm touch of lips against lips that ignited something deep within John; a spark, travelling from his very core to every single fibre of his being, leaving a hot trail until it felt like his whole body was on fire. John melted against Sherlock with a content hum.

The following minutes were all a bit of a blur; Sherlock's hand, flattening, cupping his face and a thumb stroking lazy circles over his cheek. Sherlock's tongue, carefully licking across the seam of his lips, requesting access, exploring every last inch of his mouth, devouring him completely. Sherlock's mouth, trailing over his jaw to his neck, nibbling kissing. Sherlock's teeth, seeking out the love bite, biting at it almost possessively, leaving a mark of his own.

_Sherlock!_

They pulled back simultaneously, both panting and flushed, eyes locked. With an inexplicable and unexpected surge of confidence - which he _so_ wasn't going to question at the moment - John sprawled his hands out over Sherlock's chest, rubbing gently, enjoying the texture of the fine muscles underneath the fabric of his shirt. He let one hand wander higher, expecting Sherlock to vanish in a cloud of smoke at any moment. But the other boy stayed very much present and John reached his face, still moving higher until he could push his finger into the hair on the nape of Sherlock's neck, tugging softly.

Sherlock reciprocate his affections immediately, slamming John even further into the wall, two long arms around his waist, making it impossible for the shorter boy's feet to reach the floor. With a little yelp of surprise, John almost automatically wrapped his legs around the Alpha's own waist and squeezed, ignoring the fact that it was physically impossible to bring him closer still.

Hands roaming over the curly-haired boy's back, John smashed their mouths together again in a bruising kiss, more teeth than anything else. There was a sinful moan and it took him a moment to realise that he was the one making the noise.

Sherlock pulled back a little, eyes glassed over, and stared at John as if he couldn't really believe what they were doing either.

"Sherlo'ock..." was all John managed before his mouth was made use of again. The older teen growled into his mouth, two hands starting to work on the cord of John's pyjama bottoms, pushing them down ever so slightly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice kept screaming at John to take things slowly, reminding him that this was completely new to him, unfamiliar and more than a bit scary. That voice was beaten into submission, however, when the older boy sprawled his fingers over the Omega's hips, massaging sweet, arousing circles into his skin.

"John." Sherlock breathed and then his hands were on the blonde's face, cupping it, caressing it. He moved, just a fraction, lining up their fast growing erections and John's heart skipped a beat. All he seemed able to do at this point was clutch at Sherlock's back and return the pressure of lips, take part in the dance of their tongues.

"John?"

The two boys practically jumped apart when they heard Ellie's voice travelling down the hall, footsteps growing closer. Their gazes met, eyes locked, and John's lips automatically curved up into a smile. After a moment, Sherlock mimicked the gesture before turning around and back to his experiment.

"John? What the hell is taking you so-" Ellie groaned as she walked into the sitting room, falling silent when she spotted her friend, still pressed against the wall, lips swollen and legs trembling.

John smiled at her, rather sheepishly. "I'll...I'll just, meet you back in your room, yeah?" he mumbled and quickly retreated, not meeting either of the sibling's eyes.

"You colossal tosser!" Ellie snapped as soon as John was out of sight, glaring at her brother.

* * *

"Sit down."

Sherlock's body obediently followed the order, much to the boy's displeasure. He flopped down on the sofa, lower lip threatening to come out in a pout.

Ellie snorted and rolled her eyes at him, setting the first aid kit down by their feet. "Don't give me that adorable puppy look, it only ever works on Daddy."

Sherlock huffed, narrowing his eyes at the girl, but raised his hands over his head, allowing his sister to help him out of his shirt.

"Why are you doing this to yourself, Lockie?" the younger sibling sighed sadly, kneeling down between his legs to inspect the bloody scratches Victor had left on his sides and abdomen. She carefully traced a finger along one of them, making the boy hiss in pain.

"You don't understand, Ellie, you're-" the older teen began, stunned into silence when the girl's hand collided with his cheek, leaving it searing and tingling.

"Shut up, Sherlock!" Ellie snapped, glaring up at him. "You're destroying yourself and for what? Another hit and a quick shag? _Victor_?"

"I-"

"No, I'm not done!" the girl interrupted again, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, averting her eyes away from her brother's face and back to the injuries. "Myc and Ford don't understand, they're different, _they function_, despite everything. We don't, we're broken. We're too much like _him_, you and me, we've got his temper, but we can't let that control our lives, Sherlock."

The older sibling had fallen silent, watching the emotions flicker over his sister's face. He was certainly glad she wasn't looking at him and couldn't see the guilt in his eyes. It would have been embarrassing.

"I need you, Lockie. I can't bear the thought of you not being here, I-" Ellie chocked on her words, rubbing a hand over her eyes. "You are killing yourself, Sherlock, and I swear to God, if you die, I don't know how to go on either."

Sherlock sighed, reaching for his sister's arm and pulling her up. "You are not supposed to worry about me. I should be the one who's too protective and overbearing." he said gently, winding his arms around Ellie, letting her snuggle against him.

"Don't go all older Alpha on me, you stupid cunt! Since when do you give a fuck about what's appropriate?" the girl chuckled into his chest, burying her face in her brother's neck, fists curling into the soft hair on the nape of his neck.

They sat in silence for several minutes, holding on to each other, each of them breathing the other in. Sibling bonds were complicated and not nearly sufficiently enough investigated as it was, but physical contact with clan members never failed to calm any of the Holmes children down. It helped to overcome any and all disagreements and make them understand each other's emotions and problems. Ellie enjoyed the especially strong connection the two youngest Holmeses shared, while Sherlock continually complained about the animalistic aspect of 'that whole damn Alpha hormone business'. Yet he never complained about or refused the contact with his sister - even though he'd never admit how much he cherished having such a deep connection with the younger girl.

"Please don't hurt John." Ellie whispered after a while, voice muffled against Sherlock's skin. "He's...special."

"Yes, he is." Sherlock agreed immediately, rather thrown back by his own honesty.

Ellie must have sensed his surprise, because she shot her brother a small smile and pressed a kiss to his cheek before getting up.

"Oh, and Sherlock?" she asked, turning back around in the door. "Dump Victor, he's a complete pillock."

* * *

The sun was just coming up, shining in through the crack in the curtain, dancing over John's face. The blonde hummed, contentedly, and rolled onto his belly, burying his face in one of the soft pillows, enjoying the comfortable bliss of his not yet fully awake state.

He'd fallen asleep with the telly on in the background and Ellie sprawled out next to him on the bed, chatting and generally being silly. There had been a lack of awkward 'Oh my God, you snogged my brother!' comments on the part of the girl, which he was rather glad about. He didn't doubt for a second that she knew, but it seemed like she didn't feel the need to push the issue - another thing John was extremely happy about, since he still hadn't figured out what exactly was going on with him.

John had never even considered being attracted to another boy before. Not out of prejudice or any homophobic issues - his sister was gay, for fuck's sake! - it had simply never occurred to him. He'd always been popular with girls; cute, likeable, loyal John Watson. He himself, however, had never been particularly interested in the opposite sex. Sure, he'd had his share of kisses and then there had been this one time, at Bill's party, with Sarah. He'd been nervous and, if he was being honest with himself, a tad bit frightened at the prospect of being intimate with someone, causing the whole experience to be more uncomfortable and weird than anything else.

The thing with Sherlock had been completely different, though. Exciting, thrilling, arousing, wonderful and glorious. It could have been the other boy's Alpha scent and hormones, John reasoned, but the butterflies in his stomach begged to differ. Maybe he was-

Next to him, someone cleared their throat. John, very slowly, pulled open an eye to peek at the visitor.

"Good morning, John." Mycroft said as a way of greeting, his expression unreadable.

The younger boy swallowed hard, fighting the impulse to pull the covers over his head and vanish. "Hey." he replied instead, smiling warily.

"Daddy did prepare the guest room for you, if I'm not mistaken." the eldest Holmes sibling continued and quirked an eyebrow, only making him appear all the more frightening.

John opened and closed his mouth a few times, not daring to say anything in fear of further angering the other boy.

Mycroft, seeing the genuine fear in his eyes, grinned at him for a moment before turning serious again, fixing him with a look John couldn't quite place.

"So, you're not going to have me killed or anything like that?" the blonde asked, for a lack of anything better to say.

Mycroft snorted, amused. "Exactly what kind of rumours about me have been spread around your school?"

"I don't think you wanna know." John said, chuckling when the older boy's expression stayed soft and open.

"John, there is one thing I must insist upon." Mycroft sighed after a moment, suddenly looking extremely grave again. John nodded shyly. "Do be cautious when _interacting_ with my brother. He can be rather-" Mycroft fidgeted with the hem of the blanket, obviously trying to find the right words. "He can be careless in his dealings with other people's emotions and feelings towards him."

The younger boy frowned and Mycroft smiled at him again, warmly and fondly, and got up, extending a hand to John. "Breakfast?"

A little bewildered by Mycroft's..._warning?_...John took the offered hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet.

"Where's Ellie?" he mused as he followed Mycroft to one of the house's many rooms, trying not to stall and marvel at what he considered luxury all around them.

There was a shadow flickering over the older boy's face and he quickened his step, very obviously relieved when they reached their destination. He pushed open the huge double doors leading to what John recognised to be the Master bedroom. His eyes immediately wandered to the enormous bed - no, really, that thing had to be at least three meters wide - and the Holmeses comfortably lounging around on mountains of plush pillows.

Calvin smiled brightly at them, propped up against the headboard, a tray with coffee and croissants balancing on his knees. "John, dear, come in, come in." he said cheerily, gesturing for his son and the other boy to join him.

The blonde's jaw threatened to drop right to the floor and he stood rooted to the spot for a moment before carefully perching on the edge of the bed.

Ford grunted his greeting, eyes staying glued to the newspaper in his hands - a Swiss one, John noticed. Mycroft slid into bed next to his brother, gaze flickering over the article the younger boy was reading.

"Ah, die Börsenkurse haben sich erholt." the eldest sibling mused and Ford nodded, stuffing a piece of toast into his mouth.

John wasn't even surprised about the discussion in fluent German which followed and diverted his attention to Ellie, frowning as he properly looked at his friend. There were big, black bags under the girl's eyes and she looked dead tired, not appearing to have slept much the previous night. He was about to ask if she was okay when he caught Mycroft's eye and the older boy shook his head.

_'Huh, have to investigate later.'_, John though and wondered instead; "Isn't Sherlock having breakfast?"

Ford snorted, scowling at the paper. "Last time I saw him he was passed out over one of his experiments. Probably high as a kite, too."

"Lay off your brother, Rutherford!" Calvin scolded, shooting his other son a stern look. Ford rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath, but nodded. "Now, John, any preferences?" Daddy Holmes asked, turning back to the blonde.

John cleared his throat - _'High as a kite? Drugs? Sherlock? What the fuck?'_ - and let his eyes wander over the trays and plates spread all over the bed. "Is that salmon?" he gaped, spotting several slices of the red fish.

"Saffron cream or blue-cheese sauce?" Calvin smiled, delighted to see the boy's face light up at something so simple as a rich breakfast.

"Eh, both?" John grinned sheepishly, accepting the offered plate. The shocking revelations about his crush quickly forgotten, he began to dig in, intent on eating his way through every single dish in the room.

* * *

Sherlock woke up with a raging headache, a mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton and - morning wood? _Really? _

The curly-haired boy groaned, letting his head fall back onto the table. His body was acting without his brain's permission a lot lately and Sherlock found that more than a bit irritating and even more annoying. He'd trained himself, built up his self-control to prevent unwanted reactions, to suppress his natural Alpha instincts. An effort which seemed to have been for naught when it came to John.

_John!_

Sherlock had very carefully avoided thinking about the blonde after their 'encounter' last night, focussing on his experiment instead. During sleep, however, he'd had far less control over his thoughts, the evidence to that uncomfortably hard between his legs.

"Bloody traitor." the boy mumbled, glaring at his erection and getting up, making his way to the bathroom. He was going to have a pee, ignore the fact that he was painfully aroused, get himself a drink and then crawl into his bed and stay there, preferably for the remainder of the weekend.

He'd managed to will away his arousal by the time he was on his way back to his own room. Soft snoring from his parents' bedroom made him stop in his tracks and frown. Sherlock knew the sounds, noises and smells of his family through their bonds and none of them ever did something as pedestrian as _snore_. Which could only mean that-

Quiet as a mouse, the dark-haired boy pushed at the double doors, peeking inside the room. As suspected, the rest of the Holmes clan - minus Aldéric, of course - was napping peacefully, as was their custom weekend morning ritual. His sister was all over the place, limbs sprawled away from her body, half covered by a blanket, one leg dangling off the edge of the mattress. Mycroft and Ford were slumped against each other, the younger brother's face nuzzled into the elder's neck, hands curled into the redhead's shirt. Mycroft had his arms around his brother, face buried in Ford's long, tousled hair.

Grinning wickedly, Sherlock fished out his mobile and snapped a few pictures. There would definitely come a time when he could use some blackmail material against the two of them - or just use the photos to tease them about their lack of the usual Holmes grace during sleep. Yes, Sherlock was very aware of the fact that physical contact between clan members was important and normal in Alpha and Omega families, but it was definitely not beneath him to make fun of his brothers for 'cuddling and looking absolutely adorable'.

Pocketing his phone, Sherlock's eyes finally wandered to the person who'd caused him to sneak into the room in the first place. John, indeed the one making the soft, cute - _'Cute? What the hell is wrong with me?'_ - sounds, had curled himself against Calvin's side, head resting on the man's chest. Calvin, in return, had his arms wrapped around the blonde, pulling him as close as humanly possible, absently caressing the boy's neck.

Not realising he was doing it, the youngest Holmes son began to move until he was standing on his Daddy's side of the bed, staring down at the man and John. It was bewildering to see his parent cuddling John and he crunched up his face in confusion. While Calvin was a charming, loving and warm person towards his children and husband, even though the twat didn't deserve it, he never dared to touch anyone outside their clan without Aldéric's explicit approval. The man was fiercely jealous and protective, which was utterly ridiculous, given the fact that he himself entertained several lovers, and Calvin had learned that the hard way.

_'It must be an Omega thing.'_, Sherlock thought, startled to find himself suddenly sitting on the bed, one hand reaching out to John. He quickly withdrew it and scowled at it. His pride told him to get up and leave, but instead he fully crawled onto the bed, lowering himself down behind the blonde boy. Slowly, he lifted a hand, placing it on John's belly, drawing the other boy closer until-

"Delete those pictures."

Sherlock jolted back, glaring at his brother. "Sod off, Mycroft." he hissed and was about to get up when John stirred and grabbed his wrist, effectively keeping him in place.

* * *

_"Sod off, Mycroft."_

John stirred, the new voice washing over him in a most soothing way. But then the warmth that had been pressed against his back began to move and the boy's sleepy mind panicked and his hand shot out, taking hold of the first thing within reach.

"Sherlock." John mumbled, turning away from Calving to snuggle against the older boy, sneaking his arms around the slim waist and nuzzling his face into the warm, firm chest. "Mm." he hummed happily when, after a moment of hesitation, Sherlock weaved a hand through his hair, the other wandering to John's back, urging him closer.

* * *

**A/N:** We used to do the whole breakfast in bed thing when my siblings and I were younger. My stepfather had to work on Sunday mornings, getting up at 03:30 to go and deliver newspapers. He'd be back at around 08:00 or 09:00 and we'd all cuddle up in my parents' bed, eat a big breakfast and watch some telly, napping and just generally being lazy for the remainder of the morning.


	4. Confessions

**A/N: **Another chapter for you lovely people, yay! Thanks go to everyone who read, liked and commented so far, you are all absolutely gorgeous!

Let me warn you now, this part will start out all fluffy and cute, but turn ugly and mean towards the end. So, brace yourselves for that, I guess. Also, I'll be away on holiday for the next two weeks, so no updates 'til I'm back home. Sorry! But you could always, you know, read my other stories? Just a suggestion, no pressure or anything.

Anyway, enjoy and review!

* * *

**Chapter Summary: **John gets a bit of help figuring things out. Oh, and his mum is a total bitch.

* * *

**Warnings: **swearing, implied sexual/physical abuse and underage sex, porno magazines (seriously, I have no idea what _exactly_ to warn about here), homophobic language

* * *

**Chapter Four - Confessions**

When John woke up properly around mid-day, Calvin, Sherlock and Ellie were gone, leaving the blonde with the two oldest Holmes siblings.

"Good morning, sunshine." Ford grinned slyly before huddling closer to his brother, whispering quietly.

John rubbed at his eyes and yawned, pulling himself up into a sitting position.

"Sleep well?" Mycroft asked, wearing a concerned expression and quirking an eyebrow.

"Erm, yeah, thanks." the blonde said, eyeing them suspiciously. "Something wrong?"

The brothers shared another glance and Ford stood, stretched and, with a wink at John, left the room to 'go and take a piss'.

"John, how much do you know about Alpha and Omega mating?" Mycroft wanted to know, causing the younger boy to blush furiously. Talking about this with Ellie, a friend, was one thing. Having scary, all-business and no fun Mycroft pressing the issue was just awkward.

"A bit. Why?"

The redhead sighed and crossed his legs, fixing John with a pointed look. "You really should be having this talk with one of your parents."

"What talk? Are you- oh my God, are we going to have _the talk_?" John groaned, horrified, face burning red.

"Well, it certainly seems necessary, given the lack of-"

"Just, no! Okay?" the younger boy interrupted, hands covering his ears. "I know all about the birds and the bees, yeah? No need to...to talk about _that_."

"So you are aware of the fact that both Ellie and Sherlock could have easily marked you as their mate last night?" Mycroft demanded, receiving his answer in the form of a shocked gasp.

"They _what_?"

"Honestly, this is ridiculous." the eldest Holmes sibling huffed, slightly annoyed. "It's highly irresponsible of your parents not to inform you about such matters."

John, playing with the cord of his pyjama pants, refused to look at Mycroft when he spoke again. "My dad left when I was 8 and died a year later. My mum hasn't been around much since and my sister, well, you know, we don't have the best relationship. And anyway, they're all Betas, they don't know shit about these things. Mum totally freaked out on me when we found out I was an Omega."

"Oh."

Something in Mycroft's voice had changed and John dared to sneak a peek at the older boy, who was smiling at him understandingly.

"There is no Omega in your immediate family?"

"Nope." The blonde shook his head. "There was my great-gram, but she died when I was three or four. I hardly remember anything."

A wave of sadness washed through the young Omega and before he knew what was happening, Mycroft had an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. Which seemed to be equally startling for Mycroft as it was for John.

"Apologies." the redhead murmured and tensed, embarrassed. "Instincts, I'm afraid."

John shrugged a bit, snuggling against the older Alpha, closing his eyes. "'s fine." he mumbled, wondering just why the hell it was fine. _'Pheromones.'_, his brain provided and the Omega part of him hummed happily.

He almost whimpered when Mycroft moved back, staring up at the taller boy with wide eyes.

Mycroft smiled a little before clearing his throat. "As I was saying, you have to be careful when dealing with Alphas in a sexual way." John scrunched up his nose, but the other boy continued. "I take it you are on heat suppressants and birth control?"

The blonde nodded weakly, wondering if red was going to become the new permanent colour of his face.

"That's...good, I suppose." Mycroft continued, looking just as uncomfortable as John felt. "Alphas and Omegas can enter a partnership with one another, become each other's mates. For such a bond to be made, the Alpha marks the Omega as his or hers."

John's trembling hand shot up to the love bite on his neck. "You mean..."

"I take it there was no blood? My siblings should be responsible enough not to bond at such a young age. Not everyone is, though."

The young Omega shook his head. "No blood, just...kissing and...biting? Oh my God!" he groaned, burying his face in his hands.

There was a strong hand on John's shoulder, squeezing, as Mycroft began talking again. "Ellie and Sherlock are a lot of things, most of them annoying, but believe me when I tell you that they would never take advantage of you in such a way, John."

John took a shaky breath and nodded. "What happens if an Omega is marked?"

Mycroft pursed his lips. "They belong to the Alpha, physically, emotionally as well as legally. In every sense of the word, really. The Alpha becomes fiercely protective and extremely jealous, often rather controlling and demanding as well."

"Thanks for the warning, I suppose." the younger boy chuckled weakly, running a hand through his hair.

"Not a problem." the Alpha smiled, admittedly still a bit uneasy. "There is no reason for you not to enjoy yourself, John. As long as you remember your suppressants and birth control and use proper prote-"

"Yeah, right, fine. Thanks, Mycroft." John spluttered, jumping up from the bed. "No biting and stuff, I get it."

"Good." Mycroft said, getting up as well. They stood, staring at each other for an awkward few seconds before the older boy smiled tightly and quickly vanished out of the room.

"Bloody hell!" John groaned, hiding behind his hands once again.

* * *

"-not healthy, darling."

John stopped, one hand on the door handle. _'Eavesdropping on Ellie seems to become a habit.'_, he mused.

"What am I supposed to do? Stop sleeping altogether?" the girl complained, sighing. Then; "John, you can come in, you know."

"How do you do that?" the blonde demanded, sliding into the kitchen and pulling himself up on the bar stool next to Ellie, who leaned over to peck him on the cheek, grinning smugly.

"I can smell you, you daft idiot."

"Language, Ellie!" Calvin tutted, busy with the dishes from their breakfast. Ellie pulled a face and poked her tongue out at his back.

John sniggered at his friend before remembering how ill she'd looked in the morning. Add to that the snippet of conversation he'd just heard and the young Omega was seriously worried. "You okay?" he asked, running his eyes over the girl.

"Fine, just nightmares." Ellie said, waving his concerns aside.

"Night _terrors_, sweetheart." Calvin corrected, causing his daughter to glare at him.

"Well, maybe if that _fucking prick_ would stay away, the dreams would too!" she snapped, almost kicking over her chair in her haste to get away.

John stared after the girl, wide eyed, before turning a questioning gaze at Calvin.

The older Omega sighed, tossing the dish towel onto the counter. "Sorry about that, John." he apologised, shooting the boy a little smile.

"No worries, 's fine." John shrugged, hesitating before speaking again. "May I ask you something? It's a bit personal, but..." he trailed off, blushing and looking at the man sheepishly.

"Ask away." Calvin smiled, sitting down at the bar opposite the younger Omega.

"Okay, so...I've noticed that your children, Ellie especially, they don't really like their dad, do they? Their _other _dad, I mean."

Calvin pursed his lips, eyes suddenly sad, a pained expression on his face.

John, fearing that he'd gone too far, mentally kicked himself and cursed, trying to come up with a suitable apology.

"I'm afraid the situation is rather complicated." the older redhead began, running a hand through his hair with a tired sigh.

"Mycroft told me about marking." John continued, a bit bolder. Calvin Holmes, as the only other Omega he knew, was his best chance to get some answers. And John suddenly had _a lot_ of questions.

"Ah, I see." Calvin chuckled, absently moving a hand to stroke over the faint scar on his own neck. "What would you like to know, dear?"

The blonde opened his mouth, dozens of things floating around his head, just waiting to get out and be discussed. But one little thing pushed to the front, nagging John, begging to be answered. "How old are you?"

Calvin seemed surprised by that particular question, but answered nonetheless. "Thirty-nine, almost forty."

"Mycroft's twenty-five, meaning that when you got pregnant with him, you were-"

"Just short of turning fifteen." the older Omega finished, realising where John was going.

"Wow, that's...you were _really_ young." John gasped, scratching a hand through his sandy hair. "Is it...has your...did you choose your husband yourself?"

"No."

"So what, you were, like, set up? By your family?"

"Mm, me and my siblings, yes." Calving nodded, studying John's face carefully.

"Why?" the boy frowned, chest clenching painfully. He was turning seventeen soon, were he in Calvin's place, his first child would be almost two already. Which was...no, just _no_. John shook his head and blinked rapidly.

"It is tradition in many of the old families to marry away their Omega offspring to well-known, financially situated Alpha heirs."

"How old is your husband?" John barely dared to ask.

"Sixty-four."

There was a pause as John did the math, nervously tapping his fingers on the bar. "He...he isn't good to you, is he? You or Ellie or the others?"

"No, he is not." Calvin agreed, watching the boy's reaction with sorrow-filled eyes.

"But why don't you leave?" John practically shouted, frantic. All this, the information about the other three Holmes boys who'd never had a chance to live, Ellie's bad dreams, the sibling's obvious distaste for their father, the forced marriage, what he interpreted as not fully consensual child making and bearing - the boy couldn't process it and pressed his eyes shut, face buried in his hands.

"I can't." the older Omega explained, reaching out to stroke a soothing hand over the boy's cheek. "I have legal obligations, I am owned. Aldéric and I are bonded, emotionally and physically, leaving him would pull me apart. I am responsible for my children, their well-being is my utmost priority. Leaving is impossible, it is not an option."

"This is bullshit!" John choked out, surprised to find tears starting to spill and run down his cheeks. "I don't want that, any of that. It's horrible!"

"Come here." Calvin said, holding out his arms and John crashed into the man, burying his face in the soft fabric of his pullover, sobbing and shivering violently while the older Omega whispered calming words, stroking a firm hand up and down the blonde's back.

"I'm...so-...I'm sorry." John managed between sobs, fists curled into Calvin's clothes. "You're so nice and...warm and wonderful and...shit, I don't even know, but you don't deserve this!"

"John." Calvin cupped the boy's cheek, lifting his head. "You are a strong, smart and independent young man. The world isn't what it used to be, dear. You have every right to make your own decisions, to choose your career and your mate. Never stop fighting for the things you want."

"M'kay." the blonde mumbled, basking in the soothing scent of the adult Omega.

"Naturally, I'd be delighted if you chose one of my cubs, but, to be honest, they're all a bit mad." Calvin chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, all the while pressing kisses into the distraught boy's hair.

John snorted, snuggling further into the man, who in turn tightened his hold on the young Omega.

* * *

"Ellie?!"

The girl grunted her acknowledgement and John stepped into the room, carefully closing the door behind himself.

The redhead was buried under a mountain of pillows and blankets, but she struggled out of her cocoon as soon as John's scent hit her.

"What's wrong?" Ellie demanded, taking in the boy's red-rimmed eyes, dishevelled hair and slumped shoulders.

John hesitated, sniffing the air. Ellie's own scent was still present, but there was a new, underlying something. "You...you smell sad and angry? Worried? How is that even...?" the blonde murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

On the bed, Ellie smiled and threw back the covers, inviting John to join her. "You smell scared and gloomy." she stated, wrapping long limbs around the smaller boy, nuzzling against his cheek.

"Why do _you_ know that about _me_? Why do _I_ know that about _you_?" the teen frowned, feeling himself relax against the girl, words such as 'safe', 'protected' and 'home' swirling around his head. He reached up, weaving a hand through Ellie's red curls, causing her to purr and tighten the arms around him.

"It's in my nature to protect and care for any Omega, so the closer we are, the easier it becomes for me to read you, through your smell, gestures, sounds and all."

John nodded his understanding, inhaling deeply, the strong Alpha scent surrounding him like a guarding wall. "And I, as an Omega, have it in my nature to comfort and nurture, yeah? So, same principle; the better I know you, or any other Alpha, the easier it will get to identify what they're feeling?"

"Mm, exactly." Ellie mumbled against his neck, drifting somewhere between sleep and consciousness, bathing in the soothing Omega pheromones.

"That is _so_ weird." John commented after a moment and the girl giggled.

"Yeah, it really is, isn't it?" Ellie smiled, moving her nose along his neck, suddenly scrunching up her face. "You reek of my brother." she teased, laughing when John's face burned bright red.

"I hate you." the blonde grumbled, kicking the girl under the covers.

"No, you don't."

"Shut up."

They fell asleep, cuddled close together, Aldéric Holmes and his problem causing ways forgotten for the moment.

* * *

"Are you _really_ sure that you can't stay another night?" Ellie whined, sitting on the front steps with John, waiting for their driver to take the boy back home.

"Yeah, sorry." John sighed, leaning his head against the girl's shoulder. "I have football practice today and a match tomorrow. Plus homework and-"

"Skip the homework, it's rubbishy and dull anyway."

"Not everyone's a bloody genius, you know." the blonde chuckled, turning his head a little to press a kiss to Ellie's temple. "Besides, you'll see me at school on Monday, I'm fairly sure you'll survive until then."

"But I'll be bored!" the girl groaned dramatically and huffed.

"You've got three brothers, go an annoy one of them." John suggested and Ellie smirked evilly, but was interrupted before she could answer.

"_John!_"

The two teenagers frowned, their eyes snapping up to the French windows of the sitting room just as they flew open. Without hesitation, Ford jumped over the balcony rail and into the flowerbed - and not for the first time, if the footprints and poor state of the flowers were anything to go by.

"John, I've-" the older Holmes sibling began, only to be interrupted by Calvin's sharp, angry voice coming from the open kitchen window.

"Rutherford Beal Holmes, what the _bloody_ hell did I tell you about ruining my flowers? Use the damn door like the rest of us!"

Utterly unimpressed, Ford merely rolled his eyes and turned back to the young Omega. "Here, I figured you could use them after your rather confusing weekend."

Puzzled, John took the offered paper bag, peeked inside and blushed a dark red.

"John?" Ellie asked and reached into the bag herself, producing the latest issue of the 'Playboy'. Grinning, she continued to dig, finding several magazines ranging from strictly vanilla to something fairly less vanilla, from heterosexual to gay with everything in between.

"What-" John managed, quickly throwing the magazines back into the bag.

"I thought they might help you to figure things out." Ford grinned and winked at the flustered blonde. "Don't tell Mycroft, though, he has no idea that I went through his and Greg's stash. _Yet_."

Ellie pouted. "You never give me porn to figure out my sexuality."

"Tough luck, little one." the older sibling shrugged and poked out his tongue just as the car pulled up beside them.

"See you on Monday." the girl smiled, pulling John into a quick hug before darting up the steps and into the house.

Ford seemed confused for a moment before his eyes went wide. "Just because I gave John some magazines doesn't mean _you_ get to snoop through my stuff!" He quickly ran after the girl, catching up with her in the hall and sending them both flying to the ground.

An annoyed _"For the love of God!"_ from Calvin was the last thing John heard as he closed the car door behind himself.

* * *

John felt ridiculous. No, more than that. The whole situation was completely absurd.

Taking a deep breath, the blonde emptied the contents of his bag of porn - which he had named it _almost _without giggling like an idiot - onto his bed and reached for the first magazine.

He managed to get to page five before shutting it and tossing it to the floor. Middle-aged women with big, no scratch that, with _huge_ breast definitely weren't his cup of tea. The second, third and fourth magazines suffered the same fate; teenage lesbians, old men groping their maids and a straight couple doing it missionary style didn't really do anything for him either.

Slightly annoyed with himself, John grabbed another magazine, the one with blokes in uniforms. This time, he got caught up fairly quickly, eyes darting over toned bodies, six-packs, cheekbones, hands, feet - basically everything.

It took the young Omega several minutes to realise that he was sporting an erection. "Seriously?!" he groaned, shutting the magazine and laying back on his bed. "Are you telling me it took me sixteenbloody years to figure out that I'm gay?"

His body, unsurprisingly, didn't have an answer to that.

Closing his eyes, John tried to recall situations that could, or rather should, have given him a clue. He had never been attracted to any of his female friends or the women on the telly, but he'd just figured himself to be a late bloomer. The few kisses he'd shared with Mary and Sarah had all been initiated by them, never by him. They had been nice, sure, but nothing special, nothing at all compared to Sherlock's kisses. He got even harder just thinking about the curly-haired teen and whimpered, reaching for a pillow and draping it over his head.

He needed more clues to be sure and there was only one way; examine his first and only sexual encounter with another person. Sarah had been lovely and cute and nice, but if she hadn't pushed him, John would have done nothing to bring their relationship to the next level. The sex itself had been okay, but extremely embarrassing and he'd been relieved afterwards. And then he'd broken up with Sarah a few days later, unable to do _it_ again. Imagining _it_ with a bloke, or Sherlock, however...

With a defeated sigh, John sat back up and reached for the one interesting magazine again. "Needing a friend's brothers to figure out my sexuality; only me." he huffed, flipped to the page with the pale, dark-haired police officer - who did _so_ not resemble Sherlock - and opened his trousers.

Later, lying on his bed, panting, John tried the words for the first time. "I'm gay."

Yeah, that fit. A smile tugged at the boy's lips. But now came the hard part; telling people. And he wanted to tell people, because John Watson was not going to hide such a big part of his life just because some people might not like it. They could just go fuck themselves, as much as he was concerned.

* * *

Ellie:

John stared at his Geometry homework, the numbers and shapes all mixing together into an unrecognisable tangle of black ink on white paper. The fingers of his left hand were curled around a pencil, threatening to break the fragile piece of wood in two. He wiped his free hand over his forehead. It came away covered in sweat. Why was this so bloody hard? This was supposed to be the easiest one!

"John!" Ellie's voice was impatient, shaking the boy from his thoughts."Your daydreaming is starting to get on my nerves!"

"Sorry." he smiled sheepishly.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes, swirling her own pen between thumb and forefinger. "Can I borrow your compass? Mine's rubbish."

"I'm gay." John blurted out, eyes going wide at his own bluntness. Well, so much for finesse.

"That's lovely, but it doesn't answer my question." Ellie sighed, holding out her hand and quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Uh, right. Yeah. Sure, here you go." he stammered, shoving the requested item across the table. Ellie gave him a quick nod and went back to her own studies.

That was not a reaction John had expected. Actually, that was no real reaction at all. He couldn't help himself, he felt a little gutted at his friend's disinterest in something that had taken him a fairly great amount of nerves and courage to come to terms with.

"John?"

"What?" the boy asked, a bit harsher than intended. But he was upset, so she just had to deal with that right now.

Ellie said nothing, simply grabbing his hand and pulling him closer, pressing a soft, quick kiss to his lips before going back to her homework.

And just like that, John knew everything was all right between them and smiled.

* * *

Bill:

"Oh, _come on!_" Bill yelled at the telly, spilling half of the popcorn from the bowl on to the floor.

"Watch it, you wanker!" John grumbled, pushing his at his friend's leg. Bill shot him an evil grin, dropping another handful of the puffy white grains down on the carpet. John punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow! That bloody hurt!"

"Stop messing around, I hate cleaning."

"But the referee's being an idiot!" Bill complained whiney, gesturing at the man in black and white.

John had Bill staying over for the weekend since his mother was off somewhere with some bloke called Nigel. And only God knew where Harry spent her nights, but she wouldn't rat on him. She owed him, more than one. So the two boys did what they always did when they had the house to themselves; eat a sick amount of junk food, drink Holly's beer and watch football. Spending quality time with his best mate was something John held very dear, the two of them practically having grown up together. Which made the thought that their friendship could soon be over, or at least different than before, all the more painful.

"You know what Sally told me?"

"Why were you talking to Sally?" John frowned, wrinkling his nose. He couldn't stand the girl. Arrogant cow.

"She's friends with Collin, who knows Rob, who happens to be the cousin of Flynn, my brother's best friend. They were all at Rory's party last week, the one you couldn't go to because your mum threw one of her fits?!"

"What did Sally tell you?" John sighed and Bill smirked.

"Angela fancies me."

"Who's Angela?"

It was Bill's turn to sigh. "Collin's sister?"

John had no idea who either of them were, so he just went along and nodded.

"Anyway, gave me her number and everything!" Bill beamed expectantly.

"That's, uhm, great?"

"Damn right it is! That girl is fit!"

"Whatever you say."

Bill's face fell. "You know, I was expecting a little more enthusiasm, some congratulations, maybe a little party to celebrate my impending victory in scoring one of the hottest girls in school."

"Congratulations, you're the women whisperer, seducer of beautiful maidens all across the land!" John said mockingly and Bill kicked his feet.

"What about you?"

"What about me what?" John asked innocently.

"You dating anyone? Fancying anyone? Shagging anyone? You never tell me anything!" Bill pouted, resting his head on his friend's shoulder, blinking up at him.

Well, that was his chance, wasn't it? John took a deep breath before he began to talk. "I, erm, have been kinda snogging someone. But just the one time!"

Now he had Bill's undivided attention. "Who was she? Was it Sarah? I bet was Sarah!"

"It wasn't Sarah." John chuckled nervously, fidgeting with the hem of his jumper. "And I can't tell you who it was either."

"No fair!" Bill groaned, but John firmly shook his head. "All right, fine. Give me a hint!"

"I really can't. I'm not sure if he'd be okay with me talking about it."

Bill opened his mouth for further protest, but clammed it shut when the use of the male pronoun sunk in. "He?" he asked instead, eyeing John cautiously.

"Yep."

"Are you...I mean you never..._shit_, John, I had no idea!"

"Well, neither had I, to be perfectly honest." John laughed, slightly hysterical. He couldn't meet Bill's eyes and they fell into an awkward silence.

"John?"

"What?"

"When you said you didn't know if he wanted you to talk about it-" Bill began, only to interrupt himself. John finally looked up, surprised to see his friend's face stricken with concern. "Is he good to you?"

John's face flushed a dark shade of red and he buried it in his hands. "Bill!"

"I mean it, John. If he's telling you to keep it a secret, maybe he's-"

"It was one kiss, all right? Nothing more. And we didn't have a chance to talk about it yet, that's why I don't know what it meant."

"Well, what did it mean to _you_?"

Right at this moment, John hated his best friend for being the good, caring person he was. "I'm not sure."

Bill barked out a laugh. "You are such a terrible liar. Always have been."

"Thank you." John sniffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You fancy him." Bill stated.

"Yes." John admitted with a defeated sigh. He knew Bill wouldn't give up until he had the truth squeezed out of him anyway. There was another silence, more than enough time for John's brain to start imagining all the worst scenarios his confession could have; Bill walking out and not wanting anything more to do with him, Bill telling someone, Bill telling everyone, Bill-

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me that you snogged someone, like, the moment it happened? As your best friend, I'm entitled to such information and it's a violation of intergalactic friendship law not to tell me all the hot, juicy details!"

John's eyes snapped up and he saw Bill grinning at him. Maybe the world wasn't ending just yet.

* * *

Dimmock:

"Rose. Definitely Rose!"

"Your taste is horrible!" Bill decided.

Dimmock glared at him. "Fine. Who do you think was the hottest companion ever?"

"Either Sarah-Jane or Amy. No, definitely Amy! Us gingers have to stick together."

"Amy's not bad, I guess. But Rose is way hotter." Dimmock grinned, looking at John. "Seems like we need you to settle this."

John and Bill shared a glance over the table and the latter shrugged as if to say _'Your choice, mate!'_.

"Jack."

Dimmock looked dumbstruck, which Bill - naturally - found incredibly hilarious, earning himself a punch to the arm.

"So, have you ever sucked someone's cock?" Dimmock wondered out loud a moment later and John groaned, burying his face in his arms. Bill kept on laughing.

Sometimes he wasn't sure if he hated or loved his friends.

* * *

Mike:

After being questioned about his non-existent sex life by Dimmock, John was silently begging for Mike not to make a huge fuss.

"Mike, there's something I need to tell you."

The other boy looked up from his book, shoving his glasses back on his nose. "Oh?"

"I like blokes."

"Seriously? I would've put my money on you and Ellie. You're almost joined at the hip."

"Well, you'd have lost that money." John shrugged and smiled shyly.

"Good thing I didn't bet, then." Mike smiled back before turning his attention back to the process of meiosis.

_'Thank fuck for the one sane person in my circle of friends!'_, John thought with a relieved chuckle.

* * *

Harry:

The debate whether or not to tell his family had been long and tiresome. John remembered only too vividly how his mother had reacted to Harry's coming out four years ago. There had been an awful lot of shouting, crying and smashing plates. Somehow he got the feeling that her second child outing himself wouldn't go down too well with Holly Watson either. On the other hand, he absolutely did not want to hide from his own family, the people who were supposed to love, support and protect him no matter what.

In the end, John decided to have a chat with his sister. Surely she would be most amenable, she had once been in the same situation after all.

"Harry?" John asked hesitantly, softly knocking at the girl's bedroom door.

"Piss off!"

Well, they were off to a good start, then. "Harry, there's something I need to talk to you about." Harry groaned in annoyance. "It's really kind of important."

His sister sighed, but he could hear her get up and the door was yanked open a few moments later. "What?" she barked, glaring at the boy.

"Can I come in?"

"If you insist." Harry grumbled, stepping aside to let him pass.

John perched himself on the edge of the bed, nervously running a hand through the hair on the back of his head.

Harry tilted her head and frowned down at him. "Johnny, are you okay? Did something happen?"

The boy smiled. Despite everything - the alcohol, the sleeping around, the fighting - Harry hadn't changed completely. She was still his sister, his big, protective sister who'd once punched Simon Harris in the face for making John cry in third grade.

"Recently I've noticed that, erm, I kind of prefer...that I'm not very interested in girls. Like, not at all." he stuttered and then groaned, rubbing his face and falling down on the mattress. That really could have been said a little smoother. He felt Harry sit down next to him and opened one eye.

"Have you told mum yet?"

"God no!"

"Good, that's good." Harry sighed and lay down as well, rolling onto her side and propping her head up on one hand.

"Do you think I should tell her?"

Harry bit her lip. "It's your decision, Johnny. But can I give a word of advice?" John nodded. "I wish I wouldn't have told her."

"It feels wrong to lie to her." the boy admitted, biting his own lower lip.

Harry was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Whatever happens, know that I'm here for you, yeah?"

"Thanks, sis." John smiled, moving closer to his sister, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Anytime, Johnny." Harry smiled back, pulling her baby brother into a comforting hug.

* * *

Holly:

To say John was surprised to see what appeared to be half of his belongings scattered around the Watson front yard would have been a severe understatement. His mum had a tendency to reorganise the house when she got bored, but, until now, she'd always avoided John and Harry's rooms. And she'd never done it at 11:00 o'clock in the evening.

Frowning, John moved closer to inspect the mess; most of his clothes on a heap on their porch, his posters, his CDs and DVDs, some of his books and-

The blonde went white when he spotted it, the one magazine he hadn't thrown out, the one with the uniforms. With shaking hands, he picked up the note sticking to it.

_John,_

_Guess who I met at the store today? Maggie Stamford. She came up to me, congratulating me and telling me how happy she was for you. Now, you can imagine how confused I was. Well, she must have seen it too, because she continued to explain that many people didn't figure out their sexuality until much later and that it must be a huge relief to know already. I didn't believe her, of course. My little Johnny, a fairy? No, I told her that she must be confusing you with someone else, but she was so sure. _

_I checked your room as soon as I got home, and I must say, John, I'm extremely disappointed in you. First that Omega nonsense and now, on top of that, you're gay? _

_I was a good mother, John, I don't deserve this. Why are you doing this to me? Why do you keep disappointing and punishing me? It's because you want to be special, isn't it? You cannot stand to be a normal teenage boy, oh no, you have to go and become a filthy, disgusting queer!_

_Well, I won't stand for that. As you can see, your things are on the porch. Take them and leave, go stay with some of your disgusting poof friends. I changed the locks, so don't waste your energy trying to come in. _

_If you change your ways, I'm willing to talk, but until then I don't have a son. _

_And don't come running back to me when you catch one of those gay diseases, because I warned you, John! _

_Holly_

John had to read the note three times before the message sunk in. His mum had found out about him being gay, thrown him out of their home and completely washed her hands off him over the course of only a few hours. With a choked sob, the teenager stormed up the four steps to the front door, digging in his pocket for the keys. He raised one shaky hand to the lock, but it wouldn't fit.

"Mum?" the blonde asked, taking a few steps back to be able to see his mother's bedroom window. The lights were still on. "Mum, please, let me in!"

Holly's only answer was to close the curtains.

Utterly defeated, John fell to his knees in the middle of the yard, tears starting to sting at the corners of his eyes. Half the neighbourhood was gathering around him, but John couldn't find it in himself to care about them staring, whispering and pointing.

"Mum? Please! I'm sorry! Mum?" he pleaded, unable to believe that his mother would actually do something this heartless to her own child. She'd been cruel before, but this, _this_ was a whole new level.

With a strangled sob, he buried his face in his hands. This couldn't be happening. Maybe, if he concentrated hard enough, he'd wake up and-

The teen's eyes instantly snapped up to the front door when he heard the lock click. Relieved, he jumped up and took the few steps towards the house, only to find himself dripping wet mere moments later.

"What the fuck?" John exclaimed, surprised and irritated, blinking furiously.

"I told you to stay away." Holly hissed, bucket in hand. "This is no longer your home. No son of mine is a fucking fairy!" she spat and, possibly for good measure, threw the bucket at her son as well before slamming the door shut.

_'That's it.'_, the young Omega thought, sitting down on the steps. He didn't even try to hold back the tears anymore, crying, sniffling and sobbing freely, watching as one spectator after the other left now that the show was over. In this neighbourhood, no one gave a fuck if a sixteen year old boy got thrown out on the street by his family. No one cared about anything, unless there was some way to make a profit.

Somehow, though he didn't know how exactly, John managed to calm himself down enough to get out his mobile, only to realise that he had no idea whom to call. The police were out of the question, there was no way in hell he was going back to his mother or, even worse, some sort of shelter. Bill's parents were total fuck-ups, making being homeless actually sound kind of appealing. Mike and Dimmy were away this week, on an excursion John couldn't afford, because his mum hadn't given him any pocket money in ages.

_Ellie!_

The blonde quickly typed in the girl's number, praying that the girl was still awake. He groaned when it switched to voicemail, but left a message nevertheless.

_"Hey, Ellie. It's me, John. On the off chance that you're still awake and just haven't heard your phone, please call me back. It's really important. If not, well, see you, I guess."_

He pocketed the phone again before wrapping his arms around his knees, bringing them up to his chest and resting his chin on top of them. It was freezing, a typical cold November night, he was wet and all his clothes were too and he was shivering violently, having spent the best part of the last hour outside on the lawn. He was homeless, had no money and nowhere to go.

John normally wasn't one to feel sorry for himself, he was a fighter, but this was just too much for any teenager to handle. And so John wept, feeling absolutely miserable.

* * *

"John?"

The blonde nearly jumped out of his skin when someone touched his knee. Disorientated, he blinking the tears away, trying to make sense of the situation, not even remembering falling asleep in the first place. "Mycroft?"

"What happened?" the redhead asked, absently reaching out and stroking a hand through the boy's hair.

John leaned into the touch, glad about the contact, and handed the Alpha the letter. This time, he did whimper when Mycroft pulled back, and curled himself up into a ball, shivering and shaking violently.

"Gregory?" Mycroft called after a moment and was joined by a second man, brown hair and warm eyes, another Alpha, going by the scent. "John, you need to get up."

"No, go 'way." the blonde murmured, waving a hand at the Holmes, too exhausted to do anything more. For all John cared, he'd keep lying here until...well, just until. It didn't matter anyway.

"Hey, John, right?"

The teen managed to open one eye, staring at the other man, Gregory.

"I'm going to carry you, don't panic, yeah?"

John nodded and Gregory stepped closer, easily lifting the small Omega up, settling him against his chest. Mycroft led the way and opened the car door, allowing Gregory to put John in the back, and put his own jacket over the frozen boy. John hummed happily, drifting off to sleep almost instantly in the warmth that surrounded him now.

The next time John woke up, the car was moving and something soft and warm supported his head. A hand was placed on his neck, fingers were running through his hair.

"Mycroft?"

"Sleep, John." the older boy soothed, never ceasing his movements.

Sighing, John nuzzled at the fabric of Mycroft's jeans, letting the Alpha scents lull him back into unconsciousness until-

"Mycroft?"

"Mm?"

"You're not wearing a suit."

In the driver's seat, Gregory snorted and began to chuckle.

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't actually wear a suit 24/7." Mycroft sniffed, offended.

"You totally would if I'd let you." Gregory grinned, earning himself a slap to the back of the head and a half annoyed, half bemused "Do shut up, Gregory!"

John managed a weak smile before sleep took over again.


	5. The Next Logical Step

**A/N:** Remember how I left you guys with a cliff hanger and then went on holiday like nothing had happened? Well, I decided to give you a treat (if you can call it that); I'll be posting the first chapter of my _**'Crimes and Politics'**_ series later in the evening. It is set in the same universe as this story and shows how Greg and Mycroft came to be - a love story, if you will. It starts way back when Sherlock and Ellie were little and Mycroft was still at university. It's cute and fluffy and I hope you guys will like it =)

* * *

**Chapter Summary:** John's basically homeless. And Sherlock is surprisingly good at comforting people, if they are the right people - aka John.

* * *

**Warnings:** swearing, mentions of past and present drug use, frottage, oral sex, masturbation

* * *

**The Next Logical Step**

John shot up, panting heavily, and looked around the unfamiliar room, still disorientated and dizzy from sleep.

After a moment, the previous evening's events came flooding back and he groaned, laying back down and pulling the blanket tighter around himself. The ride from his - no, not_ his_ anymore, his mum's - house to the Holmes manor was all fuzzy around the edges. He remembered Mycroft and Gregory talking softly, the redhead constantly caressing his head and rubbing his shoulders in an attempt to soothe the distraught Omega. Someone, possibly Gregory, carrying him up the stairs to the guest room and tucking him in. Which was a little bit embarrassing, now that he thought about it.

How in heaven's name Mycroft had found him in the first place, John wasn't even sure he wanted to know.

Yawning, the teenager craned his neck to see the alarm clock. 03:48 in the morning. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, nuzzling at one of the pillows. He was homeless, broke and had probably caught a cold, if his clogged up nose and sore throat were anything to go by. Like he needed _that_ on top of everything else.

Like, where was he supposed to stay? He didn't have any relatives apart from the ones who'd kicked him out. Going to a shelter was a pretty crappy option too, he'd heard a lot of horror stories from Bill and Rory, who went from one institution to the next, spending more time there than at home with their parents. Mike's flat was too small, the boy already shared a room with his younger brother. Mrs Stamford would probably take him in, but three teenage blokes in one room? John wasn't sure his friendship would survive that in the long run. Dimmock's place was out of the question as well, with his parents going through a nasty divorce and all.

_'Maybe I can stay here for a bit?'_, John mused, smiling a little at the prospect of living with the Holmes family. Not for long though, just until he was settled. The thought of being a burden to anyone made his stomach turn.

But even if he found a place, how was he supposed to pay for it? The only money he had were the £5 in his back pocket. He would need to get a job, work a bit after school. Which posed another problem; Hollow Oak was expensive, even with his studentship. He winced at the thought of having to change schools, leave behind his friends and start fresh in the middle of term.

Accepting the fact that his mind wouldn't let him go to sleep again, but rather torment him with problems he had no solutions to, John swung his legs out of bed and got up.

* * *

People were useless, the whole lot of them!

Sherlock fumed, sitting on the balcony rail with his fourth cigarette in half an hour. Not that they helped, but he'd rather have _something_ than nothing at all.

_'You are going through withdrawal and your body substituting.'_ his brain scolded and Sherlock promptly told it to shut the fuck up and stop bothering him.

Sherlock Holmes was not going through withdrawal. Addicts went through withdrawal and Sherlock Holmes was not an addict. He could stop any time he wanted to, but the thing was this; he didn't want to.

Why torture himself by living according to the rules? Why make an effort if it's all for nothing anyway? Why not use the distraction and grant his mind some peace and quiet? Why not use all the means possible to do so? Yes, why the hell not?

If asked why, Sherlock would give the same answer over and over again; because I _want_ to.

Which brought him right back to his initial problem, being the fact that Victor had run off with some starry-eyed kid who believed Victor to be the love of his life. Victor, of course, only saw the opportunities, the money and a decent shag. Sherlock wasn't jealous, because while Victor himself really was a decent shag, there were still better. No, the problem with this current situation was that Victor had a new source of income in the form of a wealthy ambassador's son, leaving Sherlock without his daily dosage.

Cursing at the thought of his dealer and his new _boyfriend_, Sherlock stomped out the bud of his cigarette, lit a new one and took a big gulp of the scotch he'd nicked out of Aldéric's study. At least one thing the old man was good for. He let the bitter liquid wash through his body, smiling at the slight burning in his throat.

Licking his lips in an effort to savour every last drop, the curly-haired teen crossed his legs and took another drag, blowing the smoke out in a perfect circle.

There was always the option of finding a new dealer, but looking for the right one was such a tedious task. Nowadays, people mixed all kinds of shit into their stuff, lacing it with starch, lactose, caffeine and God knows what to make more money. Paying hundreds of pounds a week only to get ripped off definitely wasn't worth it.

Sherlock's only other option, though, was Jim Moriarty, a man well-known in the scene and better treated as a last resort. Jim was ruthless in his dealings, had no mercy and a sheer unending fortune - decidedly not a good combination. Now, Sherlock could have overlooked all that, given his own sharp mind and money, but crawling back to an ex-lover just for a hit? No, Sherlock wasn't that desperate. _Yet_.

With an annoyed sigh, the brunette flicked his cigarette down into the flowerbed, slightly disappointed when nothing caught on fire. _That_ would have been a fun distraction. The universe, however, seemed to have other plans for Sherlock, choosing that exact moment for the puncture marks on his left arm to start itching.

With a growl, Sherlock slipped out of his coat, exposing his arms to the cold night air in hopes of some relief - a rather pointless endeavour. Accepting defeat, he began to scratch at the marks, humming contentedly at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

He didn't notice John until the blonde cleared his throat and offered a shy; "Sherlock?"

* * *

John wandered through the dark mansion, mind reeling and body aching. Yep, he'd definitely caught a cold. Perfect bloody timing.

Unsure what to do with himself, he wandered into the sitting room, remembering the mountains of books. As a kid, John had loved to read, but his mum had always urged him to go outside and play, do 'real boy things', which was Holly Watson code for _'Get the hell out, I've got some bloke coming over!'_. It hadn't been all bad, living on the street for a huge part of his childhood, since he'd met Bill and discovered his love for football while running around the neighbourhood, trying to kill time. Sure, a stable home life and a caring mother would have been preferable, but John was used to taking what he got without questioning it, simply glad that his parents never got physical with him. Well, when he said never...

He was studying the book selection - which was truly astonishing - when a cold breeze hit him, causing a shiver to run through his whole body. Realising the balcony door was open, John made to close it, only to spot Sherlock, sitting on the rail, smoking.

John's first instinct was to sneak away unnoticed and return to the guest room. His following thought was something along the lines of _'Go out there and snog the shit out of that beautiful, annoying bastard!'_, which was a little surprising, extremely confusing and totally _not_ what John would normally think or do. But normal seemed to have run away and fled as soon as the Holmes siblings had come into his life, so the blonde took a few steps towards the balcony, cleared his throat and asked, admitted a bit shyly, but still; "Sherlock?"

The other boy whirled around, staring at John with a wild look in his eyes. After a moment, he seemed to recognise him, grunted what John supposed was his acknowledgement, and turned his back again.

All his previous confidence gone, he considered going back to his original plan of finding some reading matter. What was he even supposed to say? He didn't know the first thing about Sherlock, except for the fact that he was an amazing kisser, probably had the softest, smoothest lips in the whole world, possessed a pair of magic hands and-

John's shook himself. His habit of daydreaming about Sherlock was becoming a bit annoying as of late, even to himself. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to the rail, easily swung his legs over it and made himself comfortable - well, as comfortable as possible, considering he was sitting on a metal bar - next to the curly-haired boy, who watched his every move, eyes following John and finally coming to a rest on the Omega's face, somehow appearing like they were expecting..._something_.

"What?" John asked, frowning. He realised, not for the first time, that it was almost impossible to read Sherlock. He did notice the track marks and the faint tremor in the older teen's hands, however, remembering Ford's words from the other day. "Are you all right?"

Sherlock looked away quickly and nodded once, stiffly. "Fine."

They sat in silence, which wasn't exactly awkward, but not companionable either.

"Your mother is an idiot." Sherlock finally announced, keeping his gaze on the flowers beneath them.

"Mycroft told you." John concluded, but the other boy shook his head.

"It's obvious."

"What?" John demanded, turning a bit more towards Sherlock, watching him roll the filter of his latest cigarette around between thumb and forefinger.

The older teen smiled, just a little. "You've been crying for quite some time before falling asleep, waking up again in the middle of the night, unable to go back to sleep - you're clearly upset. You are strong, independent, proud. You stand up for what you believe is right - as the confrontation with Powers has shown - you don't care about other people's opinions with the exception of your family's. Your sister, she has problems, but you get along for the most part, help each other out. You worry about her, but you won't let her mistakes control your own life. Your father is gone, only leaving your mother. She's indifferent, self-involved to the point of being cruel, even to her children. She never accepted your sister being gay and reacted even more violently when her second child, _a boy_, came out as well, kicking you out of your house, which is why you're here at four in the morning on a Wednesday."

John gaped for a moment before remembering to close his mouth. "How do you know all that?"

"As I said, it's obvious." Sherlock shrugged.

"It's bloody amazing, is what it is!" the younger boy exclaimed and Sherlock turned, raising a surprised eyebrow.

"You think so?"

"Of course it was. It was extraordinary. It was quite extraordinary."

"That's not what people normally say."

"What do people normally say?"

"_'Piss off!'_"

After a moment of silence, they simultaneously broke out in laughter, John having to hold on to the rail in order to prevent himself from toppling over.

"Those people are idiots, too, you know." John said after having calmed down a bit, still slightly out of breath.

Sherlock smiled, a full-grown smile this time. "The world is full of them. It's preposterous."

"Yes, quite." the younger boy sniffed snobbishly, only causing them both to start giggling and sniggering again. It was good to see Sherlock laugh, John decided. He seemed younger, like his proper age, less haunted and tormented. It was nice. And he wanted to tell him, to prevent that lovely smile from disappearing again, to keep it on the young Alpha's face. "You're cute when you smile." John blurted out, blushing instantly. Well, that had _not_ come out right.

"Oh?" Sherlock inquired, quirking an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Mm." the blonde choked out, refusing to look at the other boy, staring down at his hands instead. He was pleasantly surprised when another, slender hand joined his, long fingers threading through his own, tugging gently. He lifted his eyes to find Sherlock grinning at him - _the smug bastard!_ - pulling at his hand, urging him closer. Swallowing hard, John slid across the rail until he was pressed flush against the curly-haired teen's side. He forgot how to breathe when Sherlock put an arm around his shoulders and leaned closer, lips ghosting across John's cheek...as he bent down to pick up his coat from the floor.

The Omega let out a shaky breath, pressing his eyes shut. Next to him, Sherlock chuckled, draping the heavy fabric over them both, his arm around John tightening.

"Relax, John." the older teen whispered, fingers wandering up John's arm to the nape of his neck, stroking softly.

"Easier said than done." John muttered, but turned his head and buried his face in Sherlock's shoulder nonetheless, inhaling deeply. He hummed contentedly when the brunette's distinctive scent hit his nose and nuzzled at the shirt under his face. He brought up his arms, wrapping them around Sherlock's middle, and, without meaning to, began to drift off, the Alpha's soothing presence lulling him to sleep.

* * *

Sherlock watched the boy in his arms, brushing some of the blonde hair away from his eyes. He let his hand linger, running it over John's brows, down his nose and over his cheek before placing it back on his neck. The younger boy smiled in his sleep, leaning in to the touch, seeking out the warmth.

Unable to stop himself, Sherlock shifted, leaning John's head against his chest and pressing a quick, chaste kiss on top of it.

_'This is perfect.'_, his brain exclaimed in delight and for once, the teen was inclined to agree.

"Here."

Sherlock groaned and turned his head, shooting Mycroft his best _'you-ruined-a-perfect-moment-and-I-am-never-going- to-forgive-you-for-that'_-glare.

The redhead rolled his eyes and thrust the steaming cup at his stubborn little brother again.

Scowling, Sherlock took it and pointedly faced away, hoping an ignored Mycroft would soon turn into a gone Mycroft.

He had no such luck.

"What are your intentions towards John?"

The curly-haired boy snorted, but unconsciously tightened his hold on the Omega. "None of your business."

"I'm inclined to disagree with you on that, Sherlock."

"Go away."

Mycroft did the opposite and leaned against the rail, eyes taking in the features of John's relaxed face. Something inside Sherlock flared up and he growled, possessively, before he could stop himself. Mortified, he buried his face in the Omega's soft blond hair, trying to hide away from his stupid, annoying brother.

"Sherlock-"

"You can't take him away from me, he's _mine_!" the younger Alpha snarled and John stirred, frowning a bit in his sleep. Careful not to wake the boy, Sherlock soothingly nuzzled against his temple until the blonde went limp against him again.

"Why in heaven's name would I do that?" Mycroft demanded with a sigh and grabbed his brother's chin, forcing the pouting teen to face him. "I'm married, with twins on the way. I am _happy_, Sherlock, which is what I want _you_ to be as well."

Sherlock remained quiet because, honestly, he had no idea why the bloody hell he was acting like a smitten idiot. Or, to be more precise, he knew exactly why, but chose to ignore those feelings. Instead he turned and ran the tip of his nose along John's earlobe, breathing him in, letting the faintly familiar scent wash over him in calming waves.

"Don't pretend to care about me, Mycroft. It's disconcerting." Sherlock finally said, curling his fingers into the soft fabric of John's shirt.

"The boy's in love with you." the redhead continued, ignoring his brother completely. "For once in your life, try not to fuck a good thing up out of misplaced self-pity and stubbornness."

Sherlock couldn't help himself, his lips curved up into a smile against his will. "Profanity? Really, Mycroft?"

Mycroft's answer was to slap his brother on the back of the head. "Get him inside, it's freezing out here." he said before bending down to press a kiss into Sherlock's curly hair. Without saying anything else, the eldest Holmes grabbed the stolen scotch and vanished back inside, leaving the younger Alpha to deal with his confusing emotions.

And Sherlock glared, at nothing in particular, but didn't childishly rub at the kissed spot like he normally would.

* * *

"John."

The blonde stirred, rubbing his cheek against...something soft and warm? _Sherlock!_

"John." Sherlock said again and the younger boy could feel a hand moving through his hair, stroking, _caressing_. He sighed happily and tried to move closer to the Alpha, slipping his own hand under Sherlock's shirt, enjoying the feeling of the smooth, warm skin under his fingers.

"Your hands are cold."

"Shut up." John murmured and Sherlock chuckled softly.

"We should go inside."

"Don't wanna." the younger teen whined sleepily, clutching the back of Sherlock's shirt with his free hand to support his point.

"Come on." Sherlock said, easing himself off the rail and pulling John into his arms. _That_ John could live with. He quickly closed his own arms around the taller boy, leaning against his chest, surrounded by a warm cocoon of wool coat and just _Sherlock_. His awake, sober self would have been embarrassed beyond belief at this needy, clingy behaviour, but his tired, worn out self didn't seem to care one single bit about that. Being close to the Alpha was nice, calming, comfortable, the only place in the world John wanted to be at the moment. It was pure bliss.

Bliss he was startled out of when the other boy picked him up bridal style, obviously deciding that John wasn't awake enough to make sound decisions. Which didn't bother the blonde in the slightest, on the contrary; he proceeded to wrap his arms around Sherlock's neck, face resting in the crook of the brunette's neck. "You smell good." the younger boy mumbled, running his nose along Sherlock's collarbone, delighted when a shiver travelled through the Alpha's entire body.

It took the drowsy teen a moment to realise when they had stopped moving. He peeled open his eyes, looking up at Sherlock from under heavy lids. "What?"

Sherlock hesitated. Which was enough to wake John up a considerable amount. "What's wrong?" the shorter teen asked again, worry creeping into his voice.

"Do you-" the young Alpha began and groaned, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. "Do you want to spend the night with me?" he finally mumbled, a faint blush across his cheeks.

John frowned and turned his head. They were standing in the hall outside Sherlock's bedroom, John still cosily resting against the other teen's chest.

"Yeah. That'd be lovely." the Omega finally smiled, nuzzling his face back against Sherlock's neck. Sherlock, who'd asked his permission before- with a start, John realised what he'd just agreed to. Or rather that he had no idea what he'd just agreed to. Spending the night with someone could literally mean anything from a friendly sleepover to a night of shagging - which he wasn't completely sure he was ready for. No, scratch that, he was definitely _not_ ready for _that_!

By the time Sherlock placed him on the bed, John was in full panic mode, hands sweaty and heart beating violently against his chest. "Sherlock-" he began, voice breaking a little, eyes wide and scared.

The older boy frowned down at him for a moment, head tilted, before realisation filled his eyes. "Don't worry, John." he smiled, dropped his coat and toed off his shoes, crawling under the covers fully clothed. He shifted and wriggled until they were lying face to face, chests pressed together and legs entangled under the warm, heavy blanket. He brought one hand up to the Omega's face, cupping his cheek, and sought out the younger teen's eyes with his own.

John's breath caught as he waited for Sherlock to close the final distance, but the Alpha didn't. The blonde frowned a little, suddenly feeling self-cautious. Sherlock's intention had seemed clear, why was he waiting now? John blinked a few times, trying to clear his head and think straight around the pheromones beginning to fill the room; they had been about to kiss, right?

Seeing John's confusion, Sherlock's mouth quirked up into a small smile and he moved the remaining distance - or at least that's what the Omega had expected. But, again, the older boy paused, barely a millimetre of air between their mouths, their breath mingling. Sharing Sherlock's breath was intoxicating, causing John to completely lose the ability to think, or do anything, really, but be consumed by the beautiful Alpha next to him - who still didn't show the slightest inclination to take things any further than lying next to each other.

John made an involuntary, needy sound in the back of his throat and Sherlock had the audacity to bark out a laugh. The bastard was enjoying this, too. Bordering on becoming seriously frustrated, the younger boy began to fidget, so Sherlock caught his hand with his own free one, bringing it to his face to rub his nose against it, finally leaving it on his own cheek and staring at John in anticipation.

Which was when it finally clicked. Sherlock was waiting. Waiting for him, for John, handing over the reins. The Alpha was willing to do this at the more inexperienced boy's pace, showing him that they weren't going to do a single thing the blonde wasn't absolutely sure about and completely comfortable with. Sherlock,_ the Alpha_, wasn't going to push, was going to wait for John, _the Omega_.

_'That's not how the books said it would go.'_, John thought, remembering some rather unpleasant texts about Alphas taking what was 'rightfully' theirs without paying a single thought to the Omega. Something in John's chest swelled, but he beat the feeling into submission, not ready to deal with _that_ mess right now. Instead, he smiled a shy little smile, closed his eyes and gently pressed his lips to Sherlock's.

The older teen hummed his approval and John decided to deepen the kiss, carefully probing at the seam of Sherlock's lips with his tongue. Sherlock opened his mouth, just a little, inviting John in, one hand wandering down, possessively sprawling over the blonde's hip.

The Omega didn't waste any time, immediately starting to lick his way into Sherlock's mouth, tasting, caressing the older teen's tongue with his own in slow, heavy movements. It was nothing like their first kiss, there was no heat, no urgency, only the two of them, John and Sherlock, _together_.

"Jo-ohn..." the Alpha whispered against the younger teen's lips, sounding breathless and raw and _oh so sexy_. The young Omega opened his eyes, meeting Sherlock's lust-filled ones, and gulped. Gathering all his courage - Why was this so bloody hard? They'd practically dry-humped against the sitting room wall already! - John grabbed the front of Sherlock's shirt, pulling, moving his hips forward at the same time, effectively pressing their groins together. It was heaven!

The blonde let out a whimper and Sherlock groaned hungrily, moving his already very present erection against John's rapidly swelling cock. The younger boy briefly wondered how he could have been so stupid, not realising that this, a hot, hard prick pressing against his own, was the absolute best feeling in the world, why he hadn't tried it sooner or if-

_"Fuck!"_ the Omega gasped, his train of thought interrupted when the curly-haired teen began to buck against him in a steady rhythm, all the while never stopping with his ministrations of John's mouth, nipping, biting, teasing, kissing, his hands pressing into the younger boy's hips, thumbs stroking slow, lazy circles over his skin. Suddenly, there was warmth coiling in the pit of his stomach and John, with a start, realised how close he was. "Sherlock..." he rasped, in an attempt to warn the Alpha to slow down.

But Sherlock seemed to have other plans, picking up the pace of his hips, snapping them forward more urgently. "Let go, John." he breathed into the blonde's mouth before moving away to the young Omega's neck, sinking his teeth into the flushed, sweaty skin, careful not to mark, but hard enough to hurt just the right amount.

John cried out - what exactly he wasn't even sure afterwards - and came, clutching at Sherlock, who was right behind him, shuddering with his own release. The shorter boy fell back with a content hum, eyes drifting shut out of their own accord. He barely registered the Alpha pulling down his trousers and pants, only jerking when something cold was pressed against his oversensitive cock. He moaned and Sherlock chuckled, cleaning him off before manoeuvring the boneless teen back into his pyjama bottoms, soiled pants landing somewhere on the floor.

After another few minutes, the Omega felt a pair of strong arms wrap around his torso, pulling him close against a now bare chest, his head coming to rest in the crook of Sherlock's neck.

"You're so lovely." John murmured sleepily, licking at the underside of the older boy's jaw before pressing a lingering kiss to it. "And beautiful." he added, yawning.

"Go to sleep." Sherlock said, voice soft and soothing, and pressed his lips to the Omega's forehead, leaving them there. John sighed, snuggled closer, and did as he was told.

* * *

Watching Sherlock sleep was mesmerising, John decided.

The slow rise and fall of his chest, the slight frown and his eyes moving behind their lids as he dreamed, his fingers holding on to the hem of the blanket, twitching and curling.

Carefully, the young Omega reached out, smoothing a hand over the older teen's belly, tracing the soft, dark hair around his navel and feeling the muscles tense under his touch. A smile spread across John's face and he bent down, shoved the blanket further out of the way and boldly pressed a soft kiss to the Alpha's left hipbone.

"Mm." Sherlock hummed and arched into the contact.

With a grin, the blonde straddled the other teen's legs and began showering the pale chest beneath him with kisses, eliciting a string of sweet, sleepy sounds from the curly-haired boy. John moved up, leaving a wet trail with his tongue, until he reached Sherlock's neck, lips ghosting over the Alpha's pulse point where his scent was strongest. He inhaled deeply before pulling back a fraction, staring directly into Sherlock's open eyes.

"Hey." the Omega murmured, face hovering only a few centimetres over the other teen's.

Sherlock's answer was to grab the front of John's shirt and pull him down, crashing their mouths together. John made a surprised sound in the back of his throat but quickly recovered and opened his lips, allowing the Alpha's tongue to slide inside and explore. They kissed lazily for a long while, Sherlock's hands coming up to cup John's face while the younger teen thrust his fingers into Sherlock's curls, tugging gently.

It was John who moved back eventually when the need for air became too urgent to ignore - How dull was breathing anyway? - and nestled his head against Sherlock's neck, smiling as the Alpha's arms closed around him, holding him close. With a content little yawn he settled down, ready to doze and laze about in the comfort of Sherlock's presence, until he spotted the alarm clock on the brunette's bedside table.

"Shit!" John cursed and jerked up, causing Sherlock to grunt in disapproval and scowl up at him. "I'm late for class." the Omega offered as an excuse and yelped rather undignified when the Alpha had him pinned to the mattress a moment later.

"Stay." Sherlock demanded, pouting down at John and looking just too fucking adorable with his messy hair and impossible eyes.

"I can't, I-" John tried, only causing the Alpha to roll his eyes before leaning down to nibble at the blonde's ear.

"You're excused for the rest of the week." Sherlock said and sucked John's earlobe into his mouth, making the younger boy shiver and moan in response. "Family problems, familiar circumstances or some such thing."

"Really? Who-" the Omega began, but failed to keep his train of thought when Sherlock moved to his neck and began to suck at the love bite he'd left there earlier in the morning.

Sherlock pulled away a moment later, smirking down at John, supporting his weight on his hands on either side of the blonde's face. "Problem?"

John swallowed hard, breath quickening. School suddenly seemed far less important than continuing this and if he was excused, well...

Taking John's silence as a no, Sherlock, with a victorious grin, tugged at the Omega's shirt and expertly pulled it over his head, immediately attaching his mouth to the younger teen's throat.

"Fu-..._shit_, you're going to kill me..." the younger teen panted and shivered.

The Alpha pulled back, running an appreciative, lust-filled gaze over John. "Oh, I haven't even started yet." he breathed, voice rough, and moved down to suck one of the Omega's nipples into his mouth and swirl his tongue around the little knob.

_"Oh!"_ was all the blonde managed as he thrust his fingers in Sherlock's curls and threw back his head. One of Sherlock's hands came up to John's other nipple and pinched, causing the younger boy to hiss, his toes curling into the mattress. He whined, annoyed, when the older teen moved away, but the sound turned into a moan when Sherlock's mouth kept travelling down, leaving a trail of kisses and bites on his chest and belly, finally settling on nibbling just below his hipbone.

Sherlock's stomach did funny little flips at the sounds John was making, but for once to Alpha didn't give a single fuck, too caught up in his task. Shaking fingers - _'Really? It's not like I'm doing this for the first time!'_ - fumbled with the cord of the younger teen's pyjama trousers, yanking them down and leaving them to pool around John's feet. Sherlock took a moment to appreciate the sight of a flustered John, eyes pressed shut, cheeks flushed and lips parted slightly, before he settled between the blonde's legs, kissing the inside of his thighs.

"Sherlock, I-" John began, but cut himself off, embarrassed and unsure how to voice his insecurities.

The Alpha's eyes snapped up to him immediately and the blonde winced, realising how desperate and scared he must have sounded just now. Smiling weakly, he gestured with his hands, mouth opening and closing a few times without actually making any sound. With a defeated groan, the Omega let his head fall back against the pillows and draped an arm across his face. How the fuck were you supposed to tell a partner that you'd never received a blowjob before? Was that even something you needed to mention, or would things be painfully clear once you came too soon? And the most frightening thought swirling around John's head; was he expected to reciprocate? Because even though he'd managed to come to terms with his sexuality pretty quickly, he wasn't sure if giving head was something he would enjoy or even be good at. What if Sherlock laughed at him or, God forbid, tossed him out, repulsed by his lack of experience and shitty technique? What if-

"John, look at me."

The younger boy slowly lifted his arm and peeked out at Sherlock, who went on and removed it completely, moving back up to be face to face with John.

"Stop worrying." the Alpha said, gently running a hand over John's cheek and jaw, taking a hold of his chin when the blonde tried to turn away. "It's going to be perfect, because it's you."

John's jaw threatened to drop while Sherlock's eyes went wide in shock of how stupidly sentimental his attempt to cheer up the other teen had been. But John was blushing and smiling and Sherlock couldn't help it, he smiled back and pressed their lips together.

"Promise me something." Sherlock whispered against the blonde's mouth and John nodded, sucking at the Alpha's lower lip. "Tell me the instant something makes you uncomfortable."

"'kay." John said, eager to go back to kissing, but the curly-haired teen pulled back, looking down at him with an intensity that was almost scary.

"Say it."

John frowned a bit, but complied. "I promise. Can we get back to the snogging now?"

"Happily." Sherlock smirked and sealed his mouth to the Omega's again in a demanding kiss, leaving John to feel absolutely wrecked when he moved away and down again.

John moaned and went completely limp the moment Sherlock's tongue touched the head of his cock and one hand shot out and got tangled in the older teen's curls, fingers twitching.

The Alpha lost no time and licked a wet strip from John's balls all the way up, swirling his tongue around the head for a moment before swallowing the other boy whole, causing a strangled, choked-off half moan-half groan from the blonde, his hips arching off the mattress. Sherlock's eyes closed almost automatically and he hummed in pleasure when he felt John's cock hit the back of his throat. Really, he was rather well endowed for Omega standards – if the biology books were to be believed – and the brunette was glad to have had quite some practice, otherwise he'd be starting to gag right about now.

Gently but urgently, Sherlock sprawled his hands over John's hips and pushed him back on the bed, steadying him. The blonde whimpered and tried to buck up into Sherlock's mouth. The Alpha hollowed his cheeks in response, eliciting a breathless "Holy fucking shit!" from John, who was clutching at the sheets with his free hand, toes curling and legs quivering.

Sherlock set up a steady rhythm, alternating between bobbing his head up and down and licking just underneath John's glans, delighted at the sweet, almost sobbing whines escaping the shorter teen. He was positively startled when John reached out and took a hold of his hand, linking their fingers and bringing their now joined hands up to his face, showering Sherlock's knuckles with wet little kisses. It was a stretch and his back wasn't going to be thankful later, but the Alpha couldn't tear his eyes away from John's face, scrunched up in pleasure, sweaty, _absolutely beautiful_.

"Sherlock, I-" was all the Omega managed, way beyond forming full sentences, and tugged at the older boy's hand in a warning, urging him to pull away. But Sherlock did the exact opposite, removed his hand from John's hip and sucked harder. John's whole body tensed and lifted off the mattress and then, with a choked _"Sherlock!"_, he emptied himself down the Alpha's throat and went completely boneless, chest rising and falling rapidly with his heavy breaths.

The brunette swallowed every last drop of the sticky liquid, savouring the taste that was so uniquely _John_. He carefully let the younger teen's cock slide from his mouth and crept up the bed, cradling a spent John in his arms, wrapping himself around the other boy and placing tiny little kisses all over his face; his closed eyes, his nose, his cheeks and finally his still parted mouth.

John sighed contentedly, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's torso, and returned the pressure of lips, but pulled back in surprise when their tongues met.

"I can taste myself in your mouth."

Sherlock snorted and leaned in again, but John put a finger on his lips to keep him at bay. The curly-haired boy grunted in frustration and began to move his still release-seeking erection against the Omega's leg.

The blonde was insistent, though. "We didn't use any prote-"

"I know you're clean." Sherlock said and waved a dismissive hand, glowering impatiently.

John had a hard time not to chuckle at the look. Then Sherlock's words sunk in. "How do you-"

_"John!"_ the Alpha almost whined and the Omega decided it was time to have mercy - and worry about Sherlock's unsettling knowledge of his doctor's records later – and sealed their mouths back together.

A bit unsure about the whole procedure, John let one of his hands wander down to Sherlock's pants and cupped his erection, applying just a tiny bit of pressure.

Sherlock pulled back immediately, brows drawn together in a frown. "You don't have to-"

"I know I don't _have_ to. But I _want_ to." the younger boy shrugged. Sherlock, however, didn't look convinced and John rolled his eyes, stroked his hand over Sherlock's length and watched in amazement as the Alpha's mouth fell open in a silent _'Oh!'_.

Deciding that now was the time to be brave, the Omega slid his hand into the brunette's underwear, curled his hand around the throbbing cock and gave it one slow stroke, causing Sherlock to practically melt into the sheets with a breathy moan. Satisfied with that reaction, the blonde tightened his hold and sped up a bit, doing what he himself liked best – which, apparently, was completely okay with the older teen, who writhed and moved his hips, fucking into John's fist while his hands were busy clawing at the headboard, pillows, John's shoulders, anything he could get a hold of.

The blonde watched, fascinated, how Sherlock came undone, his usual mask slipping, revealing all sorts of emotions that changed too fast to be interpreted properly. And he wondered how _he_, ordinary John Watson, was doing that to _Sherlock Holmes_, a bloody gorgeous, amazing genius. It was only a hand job, after all.

_'It's going to be perfect, because it's you.'_ - the Alpha's earlier words came back to mind and John's heart skipped a beat and his breath caught in his throat. A surge of affection for the curly-haired madman seared through him and his mouth was on Sherlock's again before he even had a chance to think about it. Not that there was much to think about, kissing Sherlock would, undoubtedly, be one of his favourite things until the day he died.

"John..." the older teen rumbled, his deep voice resonating through both their chests, as his body started to tense.

"Yes, come on. Come for me, Sherlock." John whispered, horrified by his own words for a moment, before he shrugged mentally and adjusted his grip, flicking a thumb over the head of the Alpha's cock.

Sherlock shuddered and moaned again, pressing his face against John's chest.

"You are so fucking beautiful, do you know that?" the blonde continued, finding it surprisingly easy to talk like _that_ now that he'd started it, the words coming easily and without having to think about them. "Beautiful and brilliant and sexy." he groaned and bit down on Sherlock's ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth. "I could watch you like this All. Day. Long."

That did it. Sherlock groaned, went completely rigid and with a quiet, almost surprised "John!" on his lips, spilled all over the younger boy's hand before collapsing against him, panting.

John wiped his hands on the sheets - they were dirty already, so there - and tried to sit up, get something to clean them up, but Sherlock, with a sudden burst of energy, flipped them so he was sprawled over the smaller body, a heavy yet not uncomfortable weight that made no indication whatsoever of moving away anytime soon.

The Omega rolled his eyes, smiling all the same and burying his nose in those wonderful dark curls. "I was just gonna go and get a wet cloth or something. We're filthy."

"Apparently, so is your mouth when you wank off other men." Sherlock deadpanned and pulled one of the blankets over them in a final _'we-are-staying-here-and-there-is-not-a-single-blo ody-thing-you-can-do-about-it'_-statement.

"Shut up!" John complained and could feel the other teen smirk against his neck before he pressed a brief kiss to the overheated skin. With a defeated sigh, the blonde settled into a more comfortable position - a rather hard thing to accomplish with a sleepy, annoyed Sherlock practically glued to him - and closed his eyes. With a happy little sigh, he rubbed his nose through the Alpha's hair, just because he could, breathing in the scent that was growing on him with each passing moment spent in the brunette's presence. He didn't even care about the flashing neon signs in his head reading _'John is in love with Sherlock!'_ or the butterflies going crazy in his stomach. All of that could be dealt with later. Like, a lot later. Preferably after some more sex.

On top of him, Sherlock huffed out an irritated breath. "Stop thinking, it's annoying."

* * *

Sherlock woke up before John and it took him exactly one glance at the expression on the sleeping Omega's face to start panicking.

He _didn't_ do feelings. He _didn't_ cuddle. He _didn't_ snog. And he certainly _didn't_ almost confess his lo- adoration for the first best Omega to walk into his life.

He did, however, grab some mostly clean clothes and vanish through his bedroom window in order to avoid bumping into anyone on his escape.

* * *

**A/N:** Another cliff hanger, boooo! Sorry about that, though, really. See you guys soon!


End file.
